


dreaming gives one such bad luck

by diana_hawthorne (stsgirlie)



Series: Private Lives [11]
Category: Law & Order, Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7151663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stsgirlie/pseuds/diana_hawthorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of the Season 18 episode "Betrayal," Liz Olivet is sued by Katherine Donovan for admitting her affair with Mike Logan on the stand, claiming her testimony cost her the trial. Desperate to keep her secrets from her daughter and her estranged husband, she hires Shelly Kates to represent her against Donovan.</p><p>Set in October 2007.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic comes from Anne Sexton's poem "Eighteen Days Without You (December 2nd)". This story takes place immediately following the events of the Season 18 episode "Betrayal."

‘Dr. Olivet?’ her doorman calls as she and Caroline pass through the lobby. She stops and looks at him.

‘Yes, Tony?’

‘This man here has been waiting for you,’ he says, gesturing to a nondescript, middle-aged man sitting on the sofa across from the doormen’s desk.

He isn’t familiar at all and her daughter looks up at her. ‘Who’s that, Mommy?’

‘I don’t know,’ she replies as he approaches them.

‘Dr. Olivet?’ he asks, extending his hand.

She doesn’t take it. ‘Yes?’

He shrugs slightly, drops his hand, then produces a folded sheet of blue paper. ‘You’ve been served.’

She accepts the paper unthinkingly, gaping after him as he passes through the doors.

‘Dr. Olivet, I’m sorry, I had no idea!’ Tony says, coming over to her, apologetic and ashamed. ‘I am so sorry.’

‘It’s fine, Tony,’ she says, forcing a smile. Her hands tremble and, with her daughter’s eyes on her, she opens the document. Despite being married to a lawyer for a decade and working for the city for a good deal of her professional life, the legalese goes completely over her head. After her third re-reading, she finally grasps the essentials--she is being sued for eight million dollars by Katherine Donovan because her affair with “a police officer she counseled and slept with whilst he was her patient” was brought up on the stand, potentially costing Katherine her trial.

Her heart skips a beat as everything becomes clear-- _but she can’t, she lost the trial and accepted a plea because she realized she killed her husband for nothing, it had_ nothing _to do with me_ \--and she finds it suddenly hard to breathe.

‘Is everything okay, Mommy?’

She forces a smile. ‘Everything’s fine, darling. Let’s go meet your grandparents for dinner.’

Her daughter nods but looks up at her, concerned, as they walk out the door.

What does she do next? She needs a lawyer, that much is clear… she needs to tell Ben. She needs to tell Mike. She needs to make this go away before her daughter finds out.

'…my costume?' her daughter asks.

She shakes her head to clear it. 'What, sweetheart?'

'When are we going to get my costume? For Halloween? Daddy said he’d take me trick-or-treating in his building this year, too.’

‘How about this weekend?’ she suggests, not really paying attention.

‘I’m with Daddy this weekend. Could we go tomorrow after school?’

‘Let me see--maybe your grandparents can take you, or your father will have to this weekend if they can’t. I might have to stay late at work.’

‘Because of the summons?’

She looks down at her daughter, surprised she recognized it for what it was--but of course she was raised by a lawyer. Clearing her throat, she responds, ‘Yes. Because of that.’

‘What is it about?’

‘It will be all right, Caroline. There’s no need to worry.’

‘But--’

‘I don’t want to talk about it, Caroline.’

Her daughter nods solemnly then reaches up to take her hand, squeezing tight. She stops walking to look down at her--her beloved daughter, her only child, the person she loves best.

‘I love you, Caroline. I hope you know that--I love you so much.’

‘I know, Mommy. I love you.’

Caroline wraps her arms around her waist in an impulsive embrace and she returns it, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

‘Let’s go--you know how your grandmother gets when we’re late.’

Her daughter giggles and her heart clenches at the sound. What if something happens and Caroline finds out? She can’t imagine that she would, but what if… 

‘Come on, Mommy!’ Caroline says, tugging at her hand. She forces a smile and they continue walking to the restaurant, her daughter relaxing now and chattering on about costume ideas as she continues to dwell on the summons.

By the time they arrive her parents are already seated. They hand their coats to the waiter before walking to the table, her mother and father beaming as Caroline embraces them. She kisses them hello then pours a glass of wine from the bottle on the table, drinking half of it quickly, barely before she takes her seat. Her mother notices and raises her eyebrow, conveying a clear message of _we’ll talk about it later_. She swallows, the wine suddenly tasting acidic as the thought of her parents’ reaction to this lawsuit. Oh, God. Of course they knew about her relationship with Mike but not that he was her patient, not that he is Caroline’s father, not that her relationship with him has continued, off and on, for the past seventeen years.

She is so grateful that Caroline hasn’t seen her grandparents since their return from Paris a week ago. Her daughter has much to tell them about school and her activities, and in turn listens eagerly to the stories from their trip. Her mother produces a large box from Printemps for her after dessert and she carefully unties the ribbon and lifts the lid, revealing a beautiful pale blue coat, ballerina flats, a pair of leggings and three striped Petit Bateau tshirts. 

‘Grandmother, Grandfather, thank you!’ Caroline exclaims, standing up to throw her arms around them. ‘I love them!’

‘Everything’s beautiful,’ she says sincerely. ‘Thank you both so much.’

‘And of course we didn’t forget you, Liz,’ her father adds, smiling at her. He hands her a distinctive flat orange box; opening it, she finds a Hermes scarf.

‘Oh, this is too much--’ she protests.

‘Not at all, darling,’ her mother replies, her arm around Caroline’s shoulders. ‘It will look beautiful on you.’

‘Thank you.’

Her father motions for the check, which appears with admirable promptness. He pays it and she stands up, eager to end the dinner, get home, and try to figure things out. Just as she begins to leave the table, she feels her mother’s hand grasp her arm and she turns to look at her, letting her father and daughter walk past, carrying their presents.

‘Is everything all right, Liz? You barely spoke at dinner.’

She nods and summons up a smile. ‘Everything’s fine--just a difficult day at work.’

Her mother clucks her tongue and looks at her, an eyebrow raised. ‘When will you give up working for the city and just focus on your practice?’

She gives a forced chuckle. ‘I know you’re right--soon, maybe this winter.’

Her mother nods, satisfied with her answer for the moment, and they join the rest of their family on the sidewalk. 

‘Goodnight, darlings, we’ll see you tomorrow,’ Isobel promises, kissing them both. She allows herself to stand in her father’s embrace for an extra second, feeling warm and safe. If only her parents could fix this problem as they did with so many during her childhood.

‘See you tomorrow,’ she echoes, and watches as they hail a cab. Seeing that Caroline holding a box that nearly dwarfs her, she decides that her parents’ mode of transport is quite the best one and hails a cab for them. 

‘Bedtime when we get home,’ she says absently, and for once Caroline doesn’t argue. She glances over at her; she is leaning back against the seat, her eyes fluttering closed. When they arrive at their building, she pays and tips the driver, carrying the boxes as her daughter stumbles out sleepily, yawning. They say goodnight to Rob, the doorman on duty, then go up to the apartment.

‘You can take a shower in the morning, sweetheart--you’re exhausted. Why don’t you change into your pyjamas and I’ll be in to tuck you in.’

‘Okay,’ Caroline agrees, yawning again, and goes down the hall to her room. She sets down her purse and their presents from her parents, then walks into the kitchen to pour herself another glass of wine. After downing half a glass, she sets it down, going back down the hallway to tuck her daughter in. Caroline is already under the covers and half asleep, clutching her stuffed bunny, Topsy, to her chest. She stands in the doorway for a moment, looking at her, her heart in her throat. Mike gave her that toy--her favorite toy, and she’ll never know it came from her father. Swallowing back her tears, she walks into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed.

‘Good night, my darling. Sleep well. I love you.’

‘Good night, Mommy,’ she replies, drowsy, closing her eyes and falling asleep. She sits there for a long while, listening to her steady breathing, before standing up, closing the door behind her, and going into the living room to phone her husband.

His home number, even after a year of separation, is unfamiliar and she has to flip through her address book to find it. His phone rings six times before he picks it up.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s me,’ she says.

‘Oh, Elizabeth,’ he says, surprised. ‘Is everything all right? It’s late.’

‘No, everything’s not all right,’ she says, swallowing back a sudden surge of fear. ‘Ben, I’m being sued--I need a lawyer.’

‘What?’ he asks, completely astonished. ‘What’s going on, Elizabeth?’

‘I’m not sure, Ben--please, can you come over? I need your help. I need a lawyer.’

‘Of course. I’ll leave now, be with you as soon as I can.’

‘Thank you,’ she sighs in relief, and hangs up the phone. Going back into the kitchen, she fetches her glass of wine and the bottle, then rummages through her purse to extract the summons. She goes into the living room and tops off her glass, then stares at the innocently-folded sheet of blue paper once more.

Eight million dollars. Her malpractice insurance would only cover up to three; she could probably make up the additional five million with help from her parents and godparents, but still… eight million dollars! It was unthinkable. She did nothing wrong--she admitted her own conduct on the stand only under duress and only when she could no longer remain silent. And she certainly did not cost Ms. Donovan her trial. If she had defended herself, if she hadn’t broken down when she realized her husband was writing a memoir about _their_ life, not this other girl… then maybe, yes, she could be blamed. But that wasn’t the case; she lost the trial herself. But that didn’t matter--there would be depositions, and the questions she most feared would be asked: who was the detective you slept with? When did your relationship begin and end? Did you have contact with the detective after your relationship ended? ‘No questions are off-limits in a deposition,’ Ben told her once, ‘as long as they’re remotely relevant to the topic at hand.’ And depositions become a matter of public record if used to support a case… she needs to make sure it’s dismissed before it comes to that, or that they settle, or… 

There’s a knock at her door and she sighs in relief, crossing the apartment to open the front door. No matter how complicated her feelings are for her husband, seeing him now she feels only relief.

‘Come in, Ben,’ she says, stepping back. He brushes past her and enters the apartment.

‘Where’s the summons?’ he asks as she does up the locks.

‘On the coffee table in the living room. Would you like something to drink?’

‘Coffee, if you don’t mind making some, please.’

She nods, happy she doesn’t need to watch him as he reads the suit. She takes her time making the coffee, his favorite blend, and when she joins him in the living room he has the summons in one hand and is rubbing the bridge of his nose with the other, his glasses abandoned on the table. He looks up as she sets the tray with the coffee and cups down.

‘It’s serious, isn’t it?’ she asks, sinking down next to him on the sofa.

‘Incredibly serious, Elizabeth. I don’t think she has any cause--I’ve read the transcripts, but--’

‘You did?’ she interrupts him.

He nods, a faint flush in his cheeks. ‘After… after I heard what happened, from you and from Jack, I requested the transcripts and read them. If she hadn’t broken down under questioning… well, she might have a case. But it’s clear that she accepted the plea because she would have lost the case. And the plea--the plea was generous, fifteen years without the DA opposing parole… she stipulated to the murder in her statement. She shot him in cold blood.’

‘Ben--what are they going to do?’ she asks.

‘You need a lawyer; I can represent you. Not only will our conversations be covered by attorney-client privilege, they’ll also be covered by spousal privilege. Donovan’s lawyers will start with depositions for discovery--and Elizabeth, they will ask you anything remotely relevant and you will have to respond.’

‘This will ruin my life,’ she whispers. 

‘Well, you should have thought of that before you fucked him, Elizabeth!’ he exclaims, suddenly, surprisingly angry. She’s rarely heard him curse and this is completely unprovoked.

‘Ben!’

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, his hands clenched in his lap.

‘Elizabeth, what happened with Logan?’ he asks tightly, opening his eyes to look at her.

‘Are you asking as my attorney?’

‘I’m asking as your husband.’

She runs her hand over her eyes. ‘I can’t right now, Ben. Not right now. Everything… everything’s so overwhelming.’

‘I’ll need to know sometime, and sometime soon--if you won’t tell me as your husband, you’ll need to tell me as your attorney.’

She dips her head. ‘I know. I know, Ben. But not tonight.’

He sighs. ‘Tomorrow, then. I’ll call Donovan’s lawyer in the morning, arrange a time for your deposition.’

‘I think I should find other representation. If you represented me… it would be a conflict of interest,’ she says. 

‘You really want to share the minutiae of your life with Logan with someone else?’

‘I don’t know that I can discuss them with you.’

‘I’m your _husband_ , Elizabeth. I know we’ve been separated for the past year--’

‘Yes, because of this! You want a reconciliation. Can you really think that learning about my life with him will bring us closer?’

‘I don’t know,’ he admits at last. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Let me assure you--it won’t.’

‘Elizabeth, what happened to us?’ he asks sadly. ‘And what’s going to happen?’

She closes her eyes. ‘I don’t know. Who would you recommend to represent me?’

‘Shelly Kates. She’s the best person for this sort of thing. Who’s representing Donovan?’ he asks himself, settling his glasses on his nose, flipping through the summons. ‘Sherri West.’

‘What?’ She flinches back from her husband.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, peering at her over the rims of his glasses. ‘What is it?’

She closes her eyes, shaking her head. ‘Can we call Shelly now, please?’

He rests a hand gently on her shoulder. ‘I’ll call her now.’

She nods, her eyes still squeezed closed, and she listens hard as he flips through his address book, picks up the phone, and dials her number.

‘Shelly, hi, it’s Ben Stone--sorry for bothering you so late.’ He pauses. ‘It’s actually business. You heard about the Donovan case last month? Mmhm. That’s right--plea bargain, fifteen years, no opposition to parole.’ He pauses again and she opens her eyes to sneak a look at him--he’s in lawyer mode now. She hasn’t seen him like this for years but it is deeply, overwhelmingly familiar. ‘She’s suing Elizabeth. Yes, because of that--she’s claiming she wouldn’t have been forced to accept a plea without that testimony. We’d like you to represent her. Sherri West.’ He rubs the bridge of his nose again. ‘Shelly, you’re the best and we need the best. Of course--hold on a moment.’ He covers the receiver and looks at her. ‘She wants to speak with you.’

She nods and accepts the phone from him.

‘Liz, Ben’s told me what’s happened--I’m pretty swamped right now but I don’t think she has much of a case. Shouldn’t take too long to dismiss. Let’s meet tomorrow for breakfast, first thing--eight?’

She’s forgotten Shelly’s perky charm… and how difficult it was to get a word in edgewise. She swallows and agrees.

‘Great. Balthazar, eight o’clock--see you then.’ Shelly hangs up and she hands the phone to Ben to replace.

‘What did she say?’ he asks.

‘We’re meeting tomorrow morning at eight. I think she’ll take the case.’

‘Good.’ He reaches out and squeezes her knee. ‘What can I do to help you?’

‘Can you take Caroline to school in the morning, please? It’s the nanny’s day off.’

‘Of course. I’ll get here at seven, is that all right?’

She nods. ‘Thanks, Ben.’

He squeezes her knee again, then tentatively slides his hand further up her leg. She turns her head to look down at his hand, then up into his eyes.

‘Ben?’

‘You’re hurting, darling. Do you want me to stay tonight?’

‘I need to call Mike,’ she says, and he stiffens, removing his hand.

‘You don’t have to.’

She raises an eyebrow. ‘You know I do.’

He sighs heavily. ‘Elizabeth, I don’t want you to. Can’t you let Shelly take care of that?’

‘No. I need to do it, Ben.’

‘Fine.’ He stands up. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, then, Elizabeth.’

‘Ben…’ He looks down at her. ‘Thank you for your help.’

He nods. ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ he repeats. She leans back against the sofa and closes her eyes, waiting for the door to close behind him before she leans over to pick up the phone.

His number, unlike her husband’s, is familiar, her heart pounds as the phone begins to ring.

‘Hello?’ a woman’s voice says, and she covers her eyes with her hands. Of course. Of course he had someone with him. Who is it? A new relationship or an old one? She knows he’s still hurting from the sudden suicide of his neighbor, a woman he told her he could see a future with… ‘Hello?’ she repeats, her voice slightly impatient now.

‘Could I please speak to Mike?’

‘Who’s calling?’ she asks, and she picks up on a Brooklyn accent. So--a new relationship.

‘Liz Olivet. It’s quite important.’

The voice turns haughty--so her name is familiar to her, whoever she is. ‘Oh. Well, he’s in the shower right now. I’ll have him call you back.’ The woman hangs up the phone before she can protest. Hanging up the phone, she sighs deeply, then forces herself to clean up the coffee things and her glass of wine. Even washing the dishes, immersing her hands in the scalding hot water as she scrubs, does nothing to soothe her jangled nerves. Dishes stacked in the drying rack, she locks up the apartment and turns off the lights before going to check on her daughter. Caroline, at least, is sleeping soundly, still clutching Topsy in her arms. She watches her for a long time, wanting only to close her eyes and sleep so peacefully.

At last she eases the door shut and goes into her bedroom. Mike still hasn’t returned her call; she doubts that whoever-she-is gave him the message. She showers quickly, her cordless phone in the bathroom in case he calls, but he doesn’t. Finally she gets into bed and sets her alarm for the morning, then tries to close her eyes. Sleep, naturally, eludes her, so she does what she tries not to--pulls out her photo album from that first year they were together and flips through it. They were so in love… for the first few months she wasn’t sure what he felt for her, but looking at these pictures now she was so blind not to see it immediately. Boxing Day, trips up to Connecticut and sailing and that summer in the Hamptons… all these pictures, snippets of their life together. It was such a good life too, a happy one despite everything…

There are a few photographs hidden in the back of the album and she pulls those out now. Pictures of her family: Toddling towards him at the Temple of Dendur, his arms outstretched, at eighteen months. Caroline at four, making faces at him as he laughs. Their daughter in his arms at their Christmas party in 2005, their faces turned towards each other with identical grins. He and Caroline bent in earnest contemplation of her little sailboat at the Boat Pond last August, two months after she and Ben separated, her tentative and unsuccessful foray into a life with him. The three of them--the only picture she has of the three of them, together--in Central Park, perched on the fountain’s edge at Bethesda Terrace, his arm around her and a two-year-old Caroline on his lap. She wants to cry. Five pictures… five, that’s it, for a life she’s imagined so vividly, a desperate dream… She tucks the photographs away and finally falls into an exhausted slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

She wakes up at four in the morning, gasping for breath after a dream in which Caroline is forcibly removed from her arms. She sits up, hand on her heart in an attempt to quiet its quick beating. As she recovers, she rolls over and hurries into Caroline’s room, desperate to reassure herself that she’s all right. Her daughter is still sleeping soundly and she kneels next to her bed, pressing her forehead against the mattress as she begins to cry silently. No matter what happens she cannot lose her daughter. Gulping as she tries to recover her composure, she kisses her daughter’s forehead, adjusting her blanket as she sleeps, and then goes into the kitchen. She won’t get back to sleep now; she may as well make some coffee.

It’s hard to believe this is happening to her. Seventeen years… he brought her to bed seventeen years ago, the night of his birthday, after an incredibly difficult day walking through a thirty-year crime scene and a long dinner with half a dozen G&Ts for her and quite a few beers for him… he offered to walk her home and they both knew what was coming. She wanted him so badly that she was willing to pay whatever price was required, but the payment was not demanded until now, years after she lost him. And now she wasn’t willing to pay it, not if it cost her her daughter… 

But hasn’t she paid for her mistakes enough? She was raped; she lost the love of her life; she has raised her daughter without her father. What else can she give to satisfy the greedy hunger of the universe? She drinks her coffee without tasting it, staring blankly out her kitchen window as the sun slowly filters down onto Park Avenue.

 

Caroline is barely awake by the time her husband arrives. She greets him at the door, putting in her earrings as he follows her into the kitchen.

‘Darling, Daddy is taking you to school today. I’ll see you later tonight--don’t forget that your grandmother is picking you up from school. I love you.’ She drops a kiss on her forehead before her sleepy daughter can protest, then rushes out the door, grabbing her trench coat to top her black turtleneck and grey flannel slacks. She opts to take the subway instead of a cab; she needs the distraction, the sheer press of humanity to divert her from her thoughts. In her tote is the summons, a notebook, and her checkbook, in addition to all of her usual accoutrements. She’s prepared to write Shelly a retainer as large as she needs to make this go away quickly.

The subway is as blessedly crowded as she prayed for and she loses herself in the crowd, standing by the door to force herself to focus only on keeping her distance from the other commuters. The train has a fifteen-minute stop at Grand Central and by the time the 6 arrives at Spring Street she is just on time. As she pushes through the turnstile her nervousness returns in full force and she finds herself getting more and more worked up as she walks the block and a half to the restaurant. When she gives her name to the maitre d’ at Balthazar she is directed to Shelly’s table; she is correcting briefs, her red pen flashing as she downs a cup of coffee.

‘Liz! Good to see you,’ she says, standing up to peck her on the cheek. ‘Sit down. More coffee, please, and another cup,’ she says to the waiter, who rushes off to obey. Shelly leans back and looks at her.

‘Let’s start with the brass tacks--you’re a friend and besides that, you’re my go-to child psychologist. I’ll charge you my professional courtesy rate of $125 an hour--and I will charge you by hour, no markups--with a two thousand dollar retainer. How does that sound?’

‘That’s fine,’ she says, some of her nerves dissipating as she rummages in her purse for a checkbook. She writes a check, payable to Shelly Kates, for two thousand dollars, then hands it across the table to her.

‘Thank you,’ Shelly says, tucking it into the front pocket of her leather portfolio. ‘Now, let’s get started. Can I see the summons, please?’

She nods and hands it across the table to Shelly, who extracts a pair of reading glasses from her bag and scans the document. The waiter comes to take their order and Shelly orders a ham and gruyere omelette with more coffee without looking up from the brief. She orders a croissant with jam; she is hardly in the mood for breakfast but she has to eat something. The waiter returns with more coffee just as she looks up from the brief, folding it and tucking it into her portfolio next to the check.

‘There are a couple of courses open to us. We need to determine is how much she wants. Eight million is a completely random number, and much higher than I’d expect, though of course Ms. West is working on contingency and will naturally ask for a large number. I could try to make a settlement offer--I assume you have malpractice insurance?’ She nods. ‘What’s the limit?’

‘Three million.’

‘Okay, that’s good to know. We can offer 150,000 to start and work up to three million if needed.’

‘What are the other options? If she doesn’t settle?’

‘We could go through the depositions and get the mediator to dismiss the case or force a settlement. I read the relevant portions of the transcripts this morning; there’s not going to be enough evidence to convict you even if, God forbid, it goes to trial.’

‘It can’t come to that,’ she says urgently. ‘I can’t let it come to that.’

Shelly nods and takes a deep sip of coffee. ‘Okay. I’ll call her lawyer today and make an offer. But if she rejects it, we’re going to need to schedule a deposition. I’m going to need to ask you a few questions in case it does go that far. And don’t forget, all of our conversations are privileged--but you need to be completely honest with me. I want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.’

She takes a sip of her own coffee and nods.

‘Good.’ Nodding briskly, she turns to a clean sheet of paper in her legal pad. ‘Who was the cop?’

‘Mike Logan,’ she admits reluctantly, and Shelly grins.

‘Good choice, Liz. I mean, if you’re going to toss your professional ethics to the wind, he’s the one to do it for. Tell me, is he really as good in bed as his reputation--and physique--suggest?’

She flushes immediately and Shelly laughs. ‘Sorry, Liz--just curious. So, when did your relationship begin--professional and personal; when did you end your professional relationship with him; how long did your relationship last?’

This time she takes a sip of ice water, desperately willing down the color in her cheeks. How could she be so calm on the stand confronted with her actions, barely allowing tears to come to her eyes, and yet not speak to her own attorney without blushing?

‘I started treating him in March 1991, after his partner, Max Greevey, was killed. We slept together in July and the next day I had his case transferred to another department therapist. It was supposed to be one night…’

‘It wasn’t?’ Shelley prompts.

She shakes her head, finding it far easier to continue if she looks down into her coffee cup and ignores the scratching of her pen.

‘We started a relationship that November and we were together until May 1995.’

She glances at Shelly, who is focused on her notes though one eyebrow is quirked upwards. ‘Was that it? Did you have any personal contact with him after that?’

‘I did.’

‘And?’ she prompts.

‘He came to me for help after a suspect was shot and killed on Staten Island in 1998, and after he accidentally shot and killed an undercover officer in June of 2006.’

‘You need to tell me everything, Liz. Why did he come to you then? Seeking your help as a therapist?’

‘He trusted me,’ she says, almost inaudibly. ‘He always trusted me. Even after things ended… We were in love, I’ve never stopped loving him.’

‘Okay. Were you together romantically after you broke up?’

‘Shelly--’

‘I know it seems intrusive, Liz, but I need to know. They’re going to ask the same questions--Sherri West is deceptively ferocious.’

‘I know,’ she says, and catches Shelly’s look of surprise. ‘I knew her when she was an ADA,’ she says briefly, though of course that’s not the entire truth.

‘Okay. So you know how she is. She’ll use your continued relationship with him to try to show that you have no disregard for the ethics of your profession--no, I know you have the utmost respect for them, Liz; you’re a wonderful doctor,’ she says, raising a hand to stem her protests. ‘But I have to be prepared. I hope I don’t have to use it, but I need to know. Did your relationship continue romantically after you broke up?’

They’re interrupted as the waiter sets their breakfast down in front of them; Shelly cuts into her omelette immediately, humming in satisfaction. She picks up her croissant and begins, nervously, to tear it into smaller pieces.

‘From time to time, yes,’ she admits at last.

‘Could you please detail those times?’

‘I… can’t,’ she says.

Shelly looks up from her notes and reaches across the table to touch her hand lightly. ‘I know this is difficult, Liz, but it’s best to get it out. If you were seeing him after your marriage… hey, I can understand that. Ben’s a good-looking guy, solid, dependable, but doesn’t have anything like Logan’s sex appeal. I always thought Ben would be very clinical in bed.’

‘Shelly!’ As good an attorney as Shelly is she’s thoroughly embarrassed.

She gives her a grin. ‘Just trying to make it easier for you. Come on, Liz--you know I need to know.’

‘Mike is Caroline’s father,’ she says in a rush, and for once Shelly is silent.

‘I thought she was too good-looking a girl to be Ben’s,’ she says at last, her joke falling flat.

‘Ben doesn’t know.’

‘No, I wouldn’t think he did… who does?’

‘Mike--and Liz Rodgers, at the ME’s office. She performed a paternity test for me.’

Shelly nods and she notices that she’s not writing this down. ‘Has Logan acknowledged Caroline as his daughter?’

‘He has.’ It’s oddly freeing to discuss this; she has never, ever spoken to anyone about her daughter.

‘Is everything all right, ladies?’ the waiter returns, breaking Shelly’s sympathetic gaze.

Shelly dismisses him with a smile and a nod, then turns her attention back to her.

‘I need this case to be dismissed, Shelly. I need this to go away. No one else can find out about this.’

She nods, then motions for the check. ‘I’ll do what I can, Liz. I’ll call you this afternoon with an update. Have you told Logan yet about the lawsuit?’

‘I tried calling him last night but he didn’t answer.’

‘Okay. You need to let him know, and then give him my card; if we don’t get a settlement, I’m sure he’ll be deposed as well.’ She pays the bill in cash then tucks the receipt into her bag. ‘Talk to you later, Liz--chin up.’

‘Thank you, Shelly,’ she replies, watching as the petite blonde woman dashes out of the restaurant. She sits back in her seat, feeling grateful and oddly like she has been flattened by a steamroller. Setting down her coffee cup, she gathers her things together and glances at her watch; to her enormous surprise, it’s only nine o’clock, but she does need to rush to get to her 9:30 appointment at her office on 58th Street. The streets are already jam-packed when she steps outside Balthazar, ducking under its ubiquitous scaffolding, and she decides to take the subway. For once the 6 arrives fairly quickly and at 9:20 she walks into her office, greeting her secretary.

‘When’s my last appointment today, Jessica?’ she asks.

Four o’clock, Dr. Olivet. Also, your mother called this morning--she asked would you please call her back as soon as you got in?’

She nods. ‘I’m expecting a call from Shelly Kates at some point today--could you please let me know as soon as she calls, even if I’m in a session? It’s quite important.’

‘Of course.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, and goes into her office to call her mother.

The phone rings twice before her father picks up.

‘Hi, Daddy,’ she says, ‘Mummy called me earlier?’

‘Yes, of course--here she is.’

‘Hello, Liz,’ her mother’s voice says. ‘Ben called me this morning--he said he dropped Caroline off and if I wanted, he could pick her up. Is everything all right? If you needed us to take Caroline to school you should have told us last night.’

‘Just work--it came up late last night and I called Ben. I didn’t want to wake you.’

‘I told Ben I could pick her up, of course. Are you working late tonight?’

She thinks--is she? She has to go talk to Mike; as he didn’t call her back, and she doubts she’ll be able to reach him at home, she should go to One Police Plaza to talk to him. He won’t talk to her if she calls him at work, she knows that.

‘Yes, I am,’ she says at last. ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’ll call Ben, ask him if Caroline can spend the night with him.’ A knock comes at her door. ‘Mummy, I’ve got to go--I have a patient.’

‘Do you want me to call Ben?’ she offers.

‘Yes, that would be great, thank you,’ she says. ‘I’ll call later--thank you.’

‘Of course. Speak to you soon.’

She hangs up the phone and welcomes her patient in, grateful to immerse herself in her work. But lunch comes too quickly and she sits at her desk, tapping a pen against her notepad as she tries to update a patient’s files, picking at the salad her secretary brought her from the deli around the corner.

Finally, finally, just before her next appointment, Jessica calls through to her office, saying ‘Shelly Kates is on the phone.’

‘Thank you,’ she replies before picking up the phone and pressing the button for line one, heart pounding. ‘Hello?’

‘Liz, it’s Shelly. I spoke at length with Sherri West this morning, who passed along our offer to her client. She said that Donovan’s not interested in anything less than eight mill and she wants to go to trial. She wants to schedule depositions early next week. What about Tuesday morning?’

‘Oh, God,’ she breathes. ‘Oh, Shelly, are you sure?’

‘Never underestimate the tenacity of the imprisoned… especially those that feel wrongly convicted. She wants this, Liz, wants to push the blame on someone else.’

‘Of course,’ she says, the clinical part of her brain taking over. ‘She’s been manipulated and led so much of her life, she’s never felt empowered enough to stand on her own. She can’t believe that her actions have any meaning without someone else directing them.’

‘Couldn’t have said it better myself. So, Liz, what’s your schedule like next week? Does Tuesday work? Let’s try to nip this in the bud.’

She flips through her calendar, unable to focus on the neat print there. It has to be okay--she’ll rearrange her schedule. ‘Yes, okay.’

‘Okay. And you and I will need to spend some serious time together for prep. Clear your schedule tomorrow and Saturday morning too.’

‘I will.’

‘Great. I’ll see you at my office, tomorrow, nine o’clock.’

‘Okay.’

‘Liz--’ Shelly says, her voice softening. ‘We’ll win this.’

‘I hope so.’

‘And tell Logan, give him my card. We’ll get him in Saturday morning too, prep him.’

‘I will.’

‘Okay. See you tomorrow.’

She hangs up the phone and then dials her husband’s cell number--at least she remembers that. He picks up immediately.

‘Donovan won’t accept a settlement. I’m going to be deposed on Tuesday morning. Shelly wants me to come into her office all day tomorrow and Saturday morning, too.’

‘Do you want Caroline to stay with me tomorrow night too? Your mother called earlier; it’s fine for her to stay tonight.’

‘Could she, please?’

‘Of course, Elizabeth,’ he reassures her, his voice soft and soothing. ‘What else can I do?’

‘Just that right now, please,’ she says, choking back tears. ‘I’ll call Caroline later. Please tell her I love her.’

‘I will. Elizabeth--’

‘Yes?’

‘It will be all right,’ he says finally. ‘Take care of yourself, and I’ll talk to you soon.’

‘Thank you,’ she says quietly and hangs up the phone, buzzing Jessica to tell her to let the next patient in.


	3. Chapter 3

If she didn’t have to go talk to him she wouldn’t, she would go home and take the phone off the hook and bury herself under her blankets, one of the old movies she loves playing in the background. But she does have to talk to him; she has to tell him what’s happening, even though she feels sick to her stomach and her knees and hands are shaking. She can’t drag out her day any longer; she returns her patient files to the filing cabinet, locks her office behind her, and goes downstairs to get a cab.

She calls her daughter when she’s in the cab, forcing herself to listen when she talks about her day, refusing to let herself contemplate what comes next. This has to work. This has to be all right…

As her cab pulls up to One Police Plaza she tells her daughter she has to go and that she loves her so much.

‘I love you too, Mommy,’ Caroline says, then hangs up the phone. She pays the cab driver, takes a deep breath, and opens the door. As she has a badge proclaiming she works for the city, she is able to skip the long line and go through the metal detector. She walks through the hallway, joining the line at the elevator. The elevator finally arrives and she steps on, pressing the button for the third floor. She recognizes a few people and notes their curious glances, fighting back a flush of embarrassment. Of course she is recognized here; Ben still consults on Major Case cases two days a week and she has been here many times as a psychologist and as a visitor.

The squad room is almost empty; it’s a Thursday at seven o’clock and apparently has been an easy day. Even though she knows that Ben isn’t here, she darts a quick glance at his office, making sure the lights are off and the door is closed. She steps into the bullpen, around the small desk behind the column that used to be Mike’s. After his first year at Major Case, he moved from that inconvenient location to a larger desk near the gun lockers, across from Goren and Eames’ corner. He is sitting there now, bent over paperwork, a stray lock of hair falling into his eyes. Her heart thumps betrayingly as she remembers lying in his arms, pushing back that lock of hair, smiling up at him as he bent to kiss her.

Just as she steps forward a short woman with dark curly hair steps out of the Captain’s office, catching his attention. He pushes back his chair from the desk and grins at her; she leans against his desk and touches his wrist, very lightly, two fingers resting there for the briefest second. Her breath catches in her throat and she almost turns to leave, but the woman looks up at her and stiffens suddenly, meeting her eyes. With a start she recognizes her as Mike’s former partner, Carolyn Barek.

So… this is who was on the phone last night. She can’t leave now; Mike looks up at Barek and frowns at the expression on her face, then turns to look at what’s captured her attention. His expression shifts immediately, his dark eyebrows drawing together, and she closes her eyes to block out the annoyance she sees on his face.

When she opens her eyes again she has to move forward, has to walk to him. He’s sitting there, still appearing relaxed, though his clenched fists and the way he’s shifted his weight in his seat tell her otherwise.

‘Stone’s not workin’ today, Doc,’ he drawls as she comes closer. ‘Care to leave a message?’

‘Actually,’ she says, and the word comes out as a squeak. She clears her throat and tries again. ‘Actually, I need to talk to you.’

Barek’s eyes flash and she moves closer to him, just close enough to warn her.

Mike tips back his chair and spreads his hands wide, a grin on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘What can I do for you?’

She draws herself up, trying to channel her mother at her most intimidating. ‘In private,’ she replies crisply.

He shrugs and glances at Barek, who looks like she’s watching a tennis match--her eyes dart back and forth between the two of them, though she stands silent and watchful. Something passes between them and he brings his chair to the ground with a crash. She flinches from the sudden sound.

‘Fine. Let’s go to the conference room.’

She follows him as he stalks over to the room, holding the door for her and leaving it open as she begins to pace, excruciatingly aware of Barek watching them through the windows.

‘So, what’s so urgent it dragged you all the way down here?’ he snaps, pulling out a chair from the table. She turns to look at him--he’s angry, so angry at her still--and swallows back her misery. ‘You know, there is this great new invention called a phone--it eliminates the need for an ambush.’

‘I tried calling last night. I suppose it was Detective Barek who picked up.’

She gets him there; he sucks in a quiet breath.

‘Well, you’ve reached me now. Can we hurry up with this, please? I’m meant to be taking my girlfriend out to dinner.’

She swallows again. ‘The Donovan case--she’s suing me. For what I said on the stand. About--about us.’

He shrugs though she can tell he is disturbed. ‘Well, that sucks, but what does it have to do with me?’

‘She’s asking for eight million dollars. She won’t settle; I’ll be deposed on Tuesday.’ He doesn’t say anything, just looks at her with narrowed eyes. She says, ‘Sherri West is her lawyer.’

‘Well, fuck, Liz!’ he exclaims, standing up so abruptly the chair clatters to the floor. 

‘Shelly Kates is representing me,’ she continues, afraid she’ll fall apart if she stops. ‘She expects that, once I admit you are… that we…’ she can’t figure out how to say it when faced with his anger, ‘she expects that you’ll be deposed too.’

‘For God’s sake, Elizabeth,’ he spits, enunciating every syllable of her name as he walks to the conference room door, slamming it shut. ‘‘So I’m gonna be dragged into your mess too? We haven’t been together, not properly, for over a decade. Why the hell does it matter?’

‘Shelly seems to expect that they will inquire into our relationship.’

‘So what?’ he snaps. ‘It’s over now and the bit they’re interested in--it happened what, sixteen, seventeen years ago?’

‘Mike--’ she whispers, her heart aching. ‘They might find out that Caroline is your daughter.’

He stops in his tracks for a moment, staring at her, then crosses the room in three strides, stopping in front of her, grasping her shoulders. ‘They won’t unless you tell them. No one knows about that except you and me.’

She presses her lips together tightly, trying not to cry, and says, ‘Shelly does, though of course she can’t say anything. My doctor does--or at least that she’s not Ben’s. And--Elizabeth Rodgers does. She did the paternity test. There’s a record.’

He drops his hands and turns away from her, his anger fading slowly. She watches him, her heart in her throat.

‘What are you gonna do?’ he asks at last, his voice carefully flat.

‘I don’t know,’ she admits, whispering because she can’t bear to say it out loud. ‘Shelly said that Donovan wants to go to trial, even though she doesn’t think it’ll get past the deposition stage.’ She swallows again. ‘What… what do you think I should do?’

‘You’ve never cared about my opinion on this subject before, Liz--why does it matter now?’ he replies, though his response lacks the anger of his previous statements. His voice is just very, very sad and she brushes away sudden tears.

‘When Ben and I separated last year… I thought we finally had a chance,’ she admits so softly she’s unsure he can hear her. ‘Going to dinner with you, spending time together with our daughter… that day you came to the park with us, at the boat pond…’ Her voice chokes on a sob but she presses on. ‘That afternoon… it was going so well and I wanted to talk to you after. To ask you… to ask you if you’d be there for her if I told her. If you’d be a part of her life. If you’d be a part of my life again. And she had the best day with you…’

‘I did, too,’ he interrupts, his voice equally quiet.

She continues, ‘When I was getting ice cream--I came back before you realized--I heard her ask you if you had children. And you said no, and she asked you why, because you were so fun and she thought you’d be such a good father, and you said--’ she can barely get the words out, she hasn’t cried like this in years, her sadness is choking her ‘--you said you never wanted children, that you could never imagine yourself as a father. And the look on her face when you said that, Mike… she covered it up quickly, you didn’t notice because you were fiddling with the boat, but I saw it. Her heart was broken. She loves you so much and that answer broke her heart. When Ben and I separated she asked me, right away, if you and I would get together. Every time she sees you she comes home and drags out my photo albums, poring over them, asking endlessly for stories about you, it drove Ben crazy… but after that… she didn’t tell me about your conversation but she told me later that day it was good that we’d never married. That she didn’t think you would have wanted her.’

He finally turns to face her… all the color has drained from his face and he looks twenty years older.

‘I didn’t know you heard that,’ he says at last, clearing his throat, his voice tight with grief. ‘Or that she felt like that.’

She nods and he looks away, running his hand over his eyes.

He clears his throat again, stuffing his hands into his pockets, his eyes fixed on the floor. ‘I’ll do whatever you need me to do.’

She sniffles, brushing away tears. ‘Shelly wants to prep you in case you’re deposed. I’ll pay the legal fees. Can you come to her office on Saturday morning?’

‘Yeah. Have her call me with the details.’

She nods, then rummages in her purse for a tissue, dabbing ineffectually at her tears before taking a deep breath. He stays silent and she knows that there is nothing more to say tonight. Walking past him, she rests her hand on the doorknob when he says softly, ‘I do want her, Lizzie. Always. I wanted her so much.’ She turns around but he is facing away from her. What can she say? She opens the door and walks out, ignoring Barek, the few other detectives in the squad room, and everything else.

 

Somehow she stumbles into a cab and gives the driver her address before bursting into tears again. He was so angry with her… she didn’t realize he felt like this about her now, that after everything between them for the past seventeen years came down to this… 

She should never have tried to defend Katherine Donovan’s actions but she was so angry with Jack and Cutter for putting that _charlatan_ on the stand… Jack warned her that he wouldn’t give her consideration on the stand if she did but she thought he’d have Cutter bring up her rape, or her recent separation from her husband… not that he would betray the confessions of one drunken night, remembering Claire… after she finished giving her testimony, after she confronted Jack, she went home and ignored the phone calls that started only three hours after she left the courtroom. Her daughter, blessedly, was with Ben that day, and when Mike appeared at her door that night, several drinks in, she stepped back to let him into her apartment.

‘I’ve already been called in to explain myself to the Captain,’ he started. ‘He said somethin’ to the effect that he wasn’t surprised my history with inappropriate women started well before my neighbor.’

She sat down on the sofa and watched as paced around her apartment. ‘I didn’t realize that he knew it was you.’

‘Don’t be naive, Liz, everyone does! There’ve always been rumors about us and this just confirmed it. It only took an hour after you left the stand for Goren to sidle over to my desk and say something to the effect that since I’d spent some time seeing a psychologist he’d expect me to be more receptive to his methods of interrogation. I’ve gotta say, it’s a good thing your husband wasn’t in the office that day, but I can’t imagine what it’s gonna be like tomorrow when I meet with him--’ he broke off and looked at her. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘What could I say?’

‘You could’ve given me a heads up! Jesus, Liz, you owed me that at least.’

‘I haven’t talked to Ben yet; he hasn’t even heard. He would have called if he did.’

‘And is _Ben_ more important to you than me?’ he snaps.

‘He’s my husband,’ she said weakly.

‘You’re separated and seein’ other people but even if you weren’t--Liz, it was about me! Us! You should have called me, should have let me know what to expect.’

‘I know.’

‘Then why didn’t you?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know what I could have said.’

He slammed his hand against the long, low dresser holding the television; the picture frames atop it rattle. He sighed bitterly, then walked over to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a generous measure of scotch and downing it in one go. ‘I don’t even know how to talk to you right now.’

‘What gives you the right to be so angry with me? I didn’t _choose_ to admit to our relationship on the stand--’

He turned to look at her. ‘What gives me the right? My daughter--you raised her with someone else. _That_ gives me the right.’ He set the glass very deliberately down on the dresser, looked at her, and then left.

‘It’ll be twenty-five dollars,’ the cabbie says, and she realizes that she’s back at her building. She pays and tips the driver, then goes up to her apartment, going into her bedroom and climbing under the covers, not bothering to undress.

As she closes her eyes the phone rings and she listens as it goes to voicemail.

‘Elizabeth, this is Ben--could you pick up if you’re there, please?’

She does, stretching out her hand to pick up the phone.

‘Ben?’

‘I’m so glad you’re there. Caroline left Topsy at your apartment--I know it’s late, but she’s refusing to go to sleep without it.’

‘Of course. I’ll also pack some clothes for the weekend and be over as soon as I can.’

‘Thanks,’ he says, relieved. ‘We’ll see you soon.’

She hangs up the phone and rolls out of bed, going into the bathroom. She looks a mess--her clothes are rumpled and her face is tearstained. She washes her face, carefully applying a bit of makeup to cover up the fact that she is incredibly pale. When she is satisfied, she changes into jeans and a sweater, then goes to her daughter’s room to pack some clothes for the weekend in addition to her beloved stuffed bunny. Fifteen minutes after Ben’s phone call, she goes downstairs and finds a cab.

Ben’s new apartment is in Gramercy Park, the first floor of a beautiful brownstone. There isn’t a lot of traffic and she gets there quickly. Ringing the doorbell, she hears her daughter’s running footsteps and a moment later she throws open the door.

‘Mommy!’ she says, flinging her arms around her waist. ‘Oh, thank you! I can’t sleep without her.’

‘Of course, darling,’ she replies, kissing her forehead.

‘Daddy thought it was silly, that since I’m eight I should be able to sleep without her.’

‘Don’t worry about that, darling,’ she says gently. Ben comes up behind her, smiling.

‘Come in, Elizabeth,’ he says, and Caroline echoes him, tugging at her hand. She allows herself to be persuaded, her daughter drawing her inside. Ben steps around them and locks the door, then rests his hand on her shoulder before leaning forward to kiss her cheek. She catches his gaze, his eyes filled with soft concern for her. She wants comfort now more than ever and she rests her hand on his upper arm, squeezing lightly. This is what brought them together in the first place… she looks down as her daughter pulls at her hand and recalls herself.

‘Mommy, will you tuck me in, please?’

‘If your father doesn’t mind--it is his night with you.’

‘No, of course I don’t mind,’ he says, and she gives him a grateful smile.

Caroline pulls her down the hallway to her bedroom and she follows. Even after a year, Caroline’s room has a sparse and empty feel to it; she doesn’t spend much time here. Ben has tried to make the room warm and comfortable for her but he wasn’t quite successful.

As she sets the tote bag with Caroline’s things down by her closet, her daughter climbs into bed. She takes Topsy out of the bag, handing her the beloved toy. She clutches her to her chest, smiling.

‘Why am I staying with Daddy this week, Mommy?’

She comes to the bed and sits next to her. ‘I have a lot of work this week and I don’t want you to be at home alone.’

Caroline nods, biting her lower lip. ‘Oh.’

‘Why?’

‘I thought… I thought that maybe you were going out on a date. With Mike.’

‘What?’ she asks, startled.

‘I heard you and Daddy talking last night… you said you needed to call Mike and Daddy said he didn’t want you to.’

‘It wasn’t about that--it was about work.’

‘Then why didn’t Daddy want you to call him?’

‘Oh, sweetheart, it’s complicated.’

‘If you are dating him, Mommy… Mommy, did you not tell me because he doesn’t like children? Because he doesn’t want to spend time with me? Is that why I don’t know?’

To her complete shame she bursts into tears. She’s been so careful not to let her daughter see her cry but she can’t stop herself; she turns away, covering her mouth, trying to stifle her tears.

‘Mommy!’ she cries, leaping out of bed and hugging her around her middle. ‘Mommy, what’s wrong?’

She wraps her arms around her, letting her tears fall into her hair. ‘I love you, darling. I love you more than anything. And no, I’m not dating Mike.’

‘But you loved him,’ Caroline says, her words muffled as she buries her face against her shoulder. ‘You told me that. And you and Daddy aren’t together any more… when Daddy moved out and I asked you if that meant you were going to start dating Mike, you said you hoped so. That you still loved him.’

‘I do,’ she admits miserably, letting go of her daughter to wipe her eyes.

Her daughter tilts her head back and looks up at her. ‘Then are you going to date him? If you love him, Mommy… I like him so much and I think he likes me too… he always talks to me when I go to Daddy’s office. Maybe he would change his mind about wanting children?’

‘I would never be with anyone who didn’t want you and love you as much as I do,’ she says, fighting back a sense of guilt as she silently acknowledges that she did exactly that by staying with Ben all these years. ‘I love you so much.’ She gives her daughter a weak smile. ‘Now, it’s long past your bedtime, darling girl. You have an early day at school tomorrow and I want you to be well-rested.’

‘Okay,’ she says reluctantly, letting her go and lying back in bed again. She bends down to kiss her forehead.

‘I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you. Sleep well.’

‘I love you too.’

She kisses her again, stroking her hair. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ Caroline whispers, clutching Topsy to her chest. She stands up from the bed, turning to look at her as she reaches the door, blowing her a kiss before she turns out the lights and closes the door behind her. She takes a deep breath, then peers into the mirror hanging on the wall, wiping away her tears before joining him in the living room. He’s seated on the sofa, a law journal open on the table in front of him, a scotch in his hand. He looks up when she walks into the room, smiling gently at her.

‘Thanks for bringing the toy. I do think that at eight she should be able to sleep without it…’ he stops and looks at her. ‘You’ve been crying--are you all right, Elizabeth?’

She shakes her head. ‘I’m worried about the deposition.’

‘Come here,’ he says, setting down the drink and patting the cushion next to him. She does, curling up on the sofa, and allows him to wrap an arm around her. Leaning into him, she rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes.

‘It will be all right. I know that this must be scary for you but Shelly is the best. It will be all right.’

‘I hope so.’

‘What can I do to help you? Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No--but thank you,’ she says, softening her tone. ‘I’m just exhausted--I’m going to go home, get some sleep.’

He kisses the top of her head. ‘I want to help you. Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? I don’t want you to have to be alone.’

She is tempted by the offer, so much so that it surprises her. To go to bed with him, even if they don’t make love, but to be held by him… since their separation a year ago she hasn’t been held by anyone, even him, and to sleep dreamlessly in his arms… 

‘Can we just sit like this for a little?’ she asks, and she feels him nod. She sighs and snuggles closer.

‘I miss this,’ he murmurs after a few minutes of silence. ‘Don’t you? Even a little bit?’

She nods tentatively.

Emboldened by her response, he continues, ‘I miss you. I miss our life together… every day, Elizabeth. I know we’ve had our differences, and we’ve been separated for a year and a half… but I love you; I still want to be with you. What happens next?’

‘I don’t know,’ she replies, her voice almost a whisper. ‘I can’t think about this now, not until this case is settled.’

‘Okay,’ he agrees, kissing her forehead again. ‘I can wait.’

She nods again, then straightens up. ‘I need to go--thank you, Ben.’

He looks so calm and competent and safe as he gives her a gentle smile. ‘I’m here if you need me.’

‘I know.’ She leans over and kisses him on the cheek. ‘Good night.’

‘Good night.’


	4. Chapter 4

She doesn’t sleep well at all and wakes up exhausted when her alarm goes off, desperately wanting to crawl back under the covers and sleep all day. Instead she drags herself to the kitchen to start brewing coffee, then takes a scalding hot shower in an attempt to wake herself up. It helps a bit, as does the coffee, and she then gets dressed in a pencil skirt and matching jacket, wanting to look professional and as though she’s going to Shelly’s office to consult on a case rather than as a client. She takes a cab downtown to her office, thinking only of the day ahead. She does not think about Mike, she does not think about Ben; she thinks only about the questions Shelly will ask. There isn’t enough, surely, to allow the case to proceed to trial--any judge will see that, especially as Katherine Donovan accepted a plea rather than waiting for the jury.

Shelly’s office is large and modern, reminding her of her cousin Teddy’s office from his time as a stockbroker before joining the family bank. Fresh flowers are everywhere and the associates present an air of cool competence, completely unlike the hassled and harried ADAs she is familiar with. She only waits a few minutes after giving her name before Shelly herself comes out to greet her.

‘Sorry for the wait--I was just briefing one of my junior partners, who is going to play the role of Sherri West--they went to school together and she’s familiar with her interrogation strategy. She’ll join us in the afternoon--let’s go back to my office and start, okay?’

She nods and allows herself to be lead back into Shelly’s corner office.

‘Do you want coffee, Liz?’ she asks.

‘No, thank you,’ she replies. She drank three cups at home and she’s nervous enough without the extra adrenaline from more caffeine.

‘All right. Do you want anything else or should we get started?’

‘Let’s just get started, please.’

‘Sure.’ She stands up and closes the door, then pulls down the blinds. ‘If you don’t mind, Liz, I’m going to film this--one, for my record, and two, so you and I can go over points after and improve upon them. This first time around I want you to answer my questions fully and completely; we’ll go through after and go over which questions should be shorter or not answered at all. Any objection?’

‘I don’t want anyone else to see the tape,’ she says quickly. ‘It needs to be private.’

‘Of course. Only you and I will review it unless we both specifically decide to share it with anyone else. It’ll go in my safe, okay?’

She nods in agreement, watching, tense, as Shelly sets up the camera. When she presses the button to start filming, she sits in the seat across from her, her notebook on her lap, pen poised to take notes.

‘Let’s start from the beginning. During your testimony in the Katherine Donovan trial, you admitted on the stand that you had slept with a detective who was your patient at the time. Who was that detective?’

‘Detective Michael Logan. At the time he was a homicide detective at the 27th Precinct; he currently a Major Case detective.’

‘When did you begin treating him and when did you stop?’

‘He was assigned to me for counseling after his partner was shot in April 1991; we slept together once in July 1991 and I transferred his case next day.’

‘Was that the extent of your personal relationship with him?’

‘No. We began a relationship in November 1991 and broke up in May 1995; shortly after our relationship ended he was transferred to Staten Island.’

‘Did you continue seeing him romantically after your relationship ended?’

Up until now the questions were easy, but this one-- ‘Shelly--do you really think she’ll ask that?’ 

She looks up from her notes. ‘Yes, I do. I’ll try to dismiss the question but since this is the discovery part of the case, I doubt I will be successful.’

She sighs. ‘Okay. Yes, we saw each other occasionally after we ended our relationship.’

‘Did you ever treat him again after you ended your doctor/patient relationship?’

She bites her lip. ‘I wouldn’t call it treating him… he sought my counsel in 1998 after the head of the Uzielli family was shot by his son, and again in 2006 after he accidentally shot and killed a cop.’

‘And did any of these “counseling sessions”--’

‘They weren’t counseling sessions!’ she exclaims.

‘Okay, did any of these “meetings” involve a romantic element as well?’

‘Yes--we slept together in 1998,’ she admits reluctantly.

‘And have you slept with any of your other patients, Doctor?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then why did you sleep with Detective Logan?’

‘He pursued me.’

‘So did that mean that your responsibility towards him as a patient was mitigated?’

‘He was an adult; we were colleagues. Our relationship was complicated because of that and he wasn’t a patient by choice. He was assigned to me; by the time we slept together, he had already fulfilled the department-mandated therapy.’

‘Good!’ Shelly says suddenly, and she looks up at her. ‘That’s perfect, Liz. “He wasn’t a patient by choice; he had already fulfilled the department-mandated therapy.” So he was basically just finishing up the required amount of hours--just a red-tape thing?’

She nods. 

‘Excellent. Can he confirm that?’

‘I suppose he can.’

She sighs in relief. ‘That’s great--that should be enough to have the case dismissed, or at least to stop Ms. West’s questioning. Good. Did you talk to Logan?’

‘Yes. He said he’d come on Saturday, asked if you’d call him to set up a time.’

‘I’ll have my assistant do that.’ Shelly leans over to turn off the camera, then walks over to her desk and buzzes her assistant, instructing her to set up an appointment with Detective Logan for nine tomorrow morning.

‘So let’s take a break from going over your testimony. Is there anything you’re not telling me--anything that she could surprise you with on the stand?’

She closes her eyes, thinking hard, weighing the options. ‘Mike and I broke up because he’d slept with someone else… that person was Sherri West.’

Shelly’s eyebrows go up. ‘Well. Okay. So… did Sherri know about you two?’

‘No. I’m sure she didn’t… this was a long time ago, in 1993, right after I was… after--’

‘After you were raped,’ she says matter-of-factly.

‘Yes. And the week after Phil Cerreta, his partner at the time, was shot during an undercover investigation. He was distraught… it was an incredibly difficult time for both of us.’ She swallows, meeting Shelly’s eyes, considering her carefully. ‘He was testifying in a case and she was second chair, and he just… I only found out later because she was prosecuting a case we were working together and she was flirting with him, saying that it had been so long since she’d seen him…’ She closes her eyes. ‘No one at work, except Don Cragen and Phil Cerreta, knew we were together. We were discreet.’

Shelly nods. ‘Anything else?’

‘She might know now. It became common knowledge after my testimony… I’d be surprised if she didn’t know.’

‘Okay, that’s good to know, Liz. Let’s start again from the beginning.’

She sighs and they start again.

 

Shelly is finally satisfied after a long day and only a quick sandwich snatched for lunch. It’s seven o’clock by the time she leaves the office, promising to be in at nine tomorrow morning. Shelly’s energy is undimmed; she goes back to work as she leaves the office, feeling like she’s gone through the wringer. She’ll get a cab, go home, order takeout… maybe have a glass of wine in the bath. As she slides into a cab, she checks her messages: one from her assistant, confirming all her appointments have been rescheduled for the next few days; one from Ben, saying that Caroline has a stomachache; and one from Mike, a terse message confirming that he will be at Shelly’s office at nine tomorrow morning and will see her there. She calls Ben back immediately.

‘She’s really not feeling well, Elizabeth--can you come over? She’s asking for you.’

‘Of course--did you take her to the doctor?’

‘I called her pediatrician; he said it just sounds like the flu but to come in tomorrow morning, or to go to the hospital if it gets worse tonight.’

‘Okay. I’ve just finished with Shelly. I’ll be there soon.’

She tells the cabbie Ben’s address and leans back against the seat, closing her eyes. Her poor daughter--it’s probably nothing, but she’ll check and then she’ll go home.

Ben opens the door to her, looking harried. ‘Thanks for coming--she’s in bed, trying to go to sleep, but she’s struggling.’

She frowns and walks down the hallway to her bedroom. Caroline, just like her father, is an absolute baby when she is sick, and she sits next to her on her bed.

‘It hurts, Mommy,’ she whines as she rests her hand on her forehead. She’s a bit feverish but not too warm.

‘Where does it hurt?’

‘My stomach. It hurts a lot.’ She does look like it hurts; her daughter is biting her lower lip and she is sweating slightly.

‘How does it hurt? Like you’re going to be sick?’

‘A little, but like someone is stabbing me in the stomach.’

‘Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Do you want some ginger ale or something else to drink?’

She nods weakly.

‘Okay--I’ll be right back. Try to close your eyes, hmm?’

Caroline nods again and obediently closes her eyes. She leaves the door cracked as she walks down the hallway to the kitchen.

‘Is she okay?’ Ben asks, coming into the kitchen behind her as she opens cabinet doors, looking for a glass. She turns to look at him, startled by his sudden presence.

‘She said she’s feeling a bit nauseous but mostly it’s just a sharp pain--maybe food poisoning? I was looking for a glass; she wants some ginger ale.’

He nods, taking over as she leans against the counter, watching as he gets a glass and fills it with ginger ale from the fridge, even adding one of the bendy straws she likes.

‘Do you think it’s serious?’ he asks, handing her the glass.

‘I think she should go to the doctor in the morning if she’s not feeling better, but there’s nothing we can do for now--she should try to get some sleep. Waiting in the hospital waiting room won’t do her any good.’

‘Okay.’

She nods and leaves him in the kitchen, walking back down the hallway to her daughter. She’s still awake, curled up on her side and clutching Topsy.

‘Here, darling, I’ve brought you some ginger ale. Can you sit up?’

Caroline nods, relaxing her grip on her toy to push herself up, wincing. She takes the glass and takes a deep sip.

‘Better?’

Caroline nods again, then hands the glass back. She sets it down on the nightstand.

‘Can you try to go to sleep now?’

‘Can’t you stay, Mommy? I want you to stay.’

‘Darling--’

‘Please, Mommy,’ she begs.

‘It’s Daddy’s weekend to have you, sweetheart, and he’s here for you.’

‘But I want you!’

Her heart goes out to her. She wants to stay with her daughter, of course she does, but… 

‘I’ll stay until you fall asleep.’

She nods again. ‘Will you sing to me?’

She smiles gently, leaning back against the headboard. Her daughter closes her eyes as she strokes her hair and she begins to sing the songs she used to when she was a baby. Nearly a dozen songs later she finally falls asleep, still whimpering slightly from pain. She presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, then slowly stands up, leaving her daughter sleeping in the bed.

Ben is in the living room, once again reading a law journal, soft jazz playing on the radio. He looks up when she enters.

‘How is she feeling?’

‘She’s asleep. She wanted me to stay, but--’

‘Why don’t you?’ he interrupts, setting down the journal and standing up to meet her. ‘You could, if it would make her feel better. I know that you’d feel better too, you never like being away from her when she’s sick, and so would I…’

‘I have to be at Shelly’s tomorrow at nine,’ she protests weakly, though she wants to stay, to make sure that her daughter is all right.

He brings her to the sofa, wrapping his arm around her. ‘Her office is closer to this apartment than it is to yours. You could sleep in a bit longer here. You can take a long, hot bath, I’ll make you dinner…’

‘I’ll have to go home and get clothes…’ she says, allowing herself to be persuaded by him.

‘That won’t take long, and by the time you come back I’ll have dinner ready, and then you could have your bath and a nice, long rest.’

She nods, his voice deep and intoxicating, sagging against him as her exhaustion hits her. He kisses her forehead. ‘Or do you want me to go? I’m happy to go instead; I could pick something up to eat on the way back. How about something from L’Express?’

‘Would you?’ she sighs in relief. ‘That would be perfect.’

He kisses her forehead again. ‘Of course. What should I bring you?’

‘I’ll make you a list,’ she says, leaning forward to pick up his legal pad from the coffee table. Flipping to a blank page, she writes the things she needs and where they are.

He takes the legal pad back once she’s finished, then rips out the page and folds it, sticking it in his pocket. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can. Help yourself to wine; there are towels in the bathroom.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, and this time he kisses her cheek.

‘I’ll see you shortly.’

When he leaves, she checks on her daughter, who is sleeping soundly albeit restlessly. She leaves the door open a crack, then goes into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of wine. Next, she goes through to his bathroom and starts running a bath, grateful that his bathroom is equipped with a long, deep clawfoot bathtub. Setting the wine down on the sink, she walks through to his bedroom, staring at the bed. She hasn’t spent the night here and hasn’t even been in his bedroom before, but it is so very Ben and thus so familiar. She feels a sudden surge of love for him--he has always just wanted to be there for her, and she needs that tonight.

She goes back into the bathroom and immerses herself in the hot bath, sighing in relief as she stretches out. She loves the water, finding it eminently soothing, and when she emerges a half-hour later she feels at least partially refreshed and restored. She dries off, then, realizing she doesn’t have anything to wear, wraps herself in the quilted blue silk dressing gown on the back of the door--a Christmas present from her a few years ago. He’s still not back when she emerges, so she pours herself another glass of wine and browses his bookshelves, settling on a novel by Ian McEwan. She is quickly immersed--it’s been a long time since she’s had a leisurely evening--and by the time he returns with her clothes and their dinner she has almost forgotten where she is and why. He smiles at her and she blushes when she realizes she is still just wearing his robe. 

‘Dinner is served,’ he says, brandishing the brown paper bag. ‘Would you like to eat in here or at the table?’

‘The table, I think,’ she says, setting aside the book and standing up. ‘I’ll just change…’

‘Don’t change on my account,’ he replies quickly. ‘You look very comfortable.’

She blushes but agrees, feeling a small glow of warmth at his words. Following him into the kitchen, she sits at the table at his request, watching as he sets the table and prepares their dinner. He presents her with a salad, foie gras, and steak frites; she smiles in thanks. They eat quietly, discussing mutual friends, their daughter, the books they are reading. It is a pleasant evening; she enjoys herself, remembering how he made her feel so cherished, so beloved… when they finish dinner, he collects her plate and clears the table as she yawns.

‘Why don’t you go to bed, Elizabeth? I’ll sleep on the sofa.’

She feels guilty; he’s taken such good care of her tonight, despite everything. ‘Don’t, Ben,’ she says, and yawns again. ‘Surely we can share a bed.’

He smiles gently at her. ‘All right. I’ll just clean up here, but you go to bed--you’re exhausted.’

‘I am,’ she admits. ‘I’m just going to check on Caroline first.’

‘Okay,’ he agrees, and turns to wash up the dishes. She tiptoes into her daughter’s room; she is still restless in slumber but deeply asleep. Ben brought her bag to his bedroom and she finds her pyjamas, changing in the bathroom. She returns the dressing gown to the hook on the back of the bathroom door, then goes to his bed, slipping under the covers. She lies on her back and closes her eyes, torturing herself with images of Mike lying in bed with Detective Barek, her dark head pillowed on his chest, his big, gentle hand stroking her hair. Is their relationship why she transferred to the Chief of Detectives’ office? And if so… it’s serious, this will be it, he will never come back to her… She drifts off just as her husband joins her, rousing her from slumber. After he changes, he climbs into bed next to her, not touching her, but she moves closer to snuggle against him. He embraces her immediately, holding her close, and she sighs as she falls asleep in his arms.


	5. Chapter 5

When his alarm goes off in the morning she stirs, disoriented for a moment. Stretching out her hand to him, she meets empty air; he is not in bed. She sits up and looks around; the bathroom door is open and the door to the bedroom is cracked. He must be in the kitchen. She turns off the alarm, uses the bathroom, and wraps herself in his robe so she can go check on her daughter. Caroline has kicked off the covers and she is curled up tightly on her side, clutching Topsy, cheeks flushed. She kneels by her side; she still has a fever and it’s gone up alarmingly overnight. Her daughter whimpers slightly as she strokes her hair but she doesn’t wake up. She stands up and goes back to Ben’s bedroom to get dressed quickly. She needs to get ready for her meeting and she needs to wake Caroline up and get her ready for the doctor’s. She meets Ben in the hallway; he is carrying two cups of coffee.

‘How’s Caroline?’ he asks.

‘Her fever’s gone up--I think you should take her to the doctor.’

He nods. ‘Of course. Is she awake?’

‘Not yet. I’ll wake her up after I get dressed and get her ready to go. Will you call me after her appointment, let me know what’s going on? I can always come back after my meeting with Shelly.’

‘I will,’ he promises, following her into his bedroom. She rummages through the bag he packed for her, extracting the black trousers, jacket, and ivory silk blouse.

‘Do you mind if I use the bathroom?’

‘Please,’ he replies, gesturing, and she takes the bathroom. As soon as she’s dressed, she reemerges, drinking half a cup of coffee before replacing it on the nightstand, going into her daughter’s bedroom. She picks out her clothes before waking her up, kneeling next to her.

‘Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up,’ she whispers, stroking her hair. ‘Come on, darling, let’s get up; Daddy’s going to take you to the doctor.’

Caroline finally opens her eyes, moaning slightly from pain. ‘Mommy?’

‘I’m here, darling. I know you’re not feeling well--you have a bit of a fever.’

Her eyes aren’t focusing on her and she is suddenly worried--this is more than just the flu.

‘Caroline, can you look at me?’ she asks, and she does at last, though her eyes are glassy and unfocused.

‘Mommy, it hurts.’

‘Ben!’ she calls in panic, turning away from her. He comes into the room a few moments later. ‘Ben, you need to take her to the doctor’s now.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘She can’t focus her eyes on me… her fever’s gone up.’

‘Mommy, I want you to take me.’

Before she can speak, Ben says, ‘Caroline, Mommy has an appointment that she has to make, but she’s going to come here right after, okay?’

‘But I want Mommy,’ she starts to cry, and she twists to look up at her husband. He meets her gaze, worried; Caroline rarely cries.

‘I’ll go call the doctor’s office, tell them we’re coming,’ he says quietly, and she nods, then looks at her daughter.

‘I know it hurts, my darling, but you’ve got to be my big, brave girl. Daddy’s going to take you to the doctor’s and as soon as my meeting is over I’ll be right back here, I promise.’

‘And you won’t leave?’

‘No, I promise.’

She nods and tries to sit up, then gasps in pain.

‘Don’t move, sweetie--just stay still.’

Ben comes back into the room. ‘They’re expecting us as soon as we can get there. Let’s go.’

‘She can’t get up.’

‘I’ll get her. Can you go out and get a cab, Elizabeth?’

She nods, standing up. She collects her purse from the hallway and hurries out to the street, flagging down a cab. Several drive past before she can finally hail one just as Ben and Caroline come down the steps.

‘Call me as soon as you know anything,’ she says, and he nods, kissing her cheek. She strokes back her daughter’s hair, trying to smile down at her.

‘Be strong, my darling girl. Everything’s going to be all right. I love you.’

Caroline nods and sags against Ben, closing her eyes, Topsy clutched to her chest. She holds open the door and watches as Ben ducks down and gets into the cab, her daughter cradled in his arms. She closes the door behind them and watches as they drive away, then swallows, looking down at her watch. Quarter to nine--she has to go. She hails another cab and gives Shelly’s address, running her hand through her hair as she fights back her fear for her daughter.

As they drive downtown the radio plays in the background, nineties rock music fading into a traffic announcement talking about a backup on the FDR. She bites her lip and pulls out her phone to call Ben, to see if they’re tied up in traffic, but her cab pulls up to Shelly’s building and she tucks the phone away again. As she pays the driver and climbs out of the cab, she sees Mike turn the corner, still wearing that awful leather coat she remembers from all those years ago. His head is bent and his hands are stuffed in his pockets as he strides heavily toward the door, the weight of the world on his shoulders. Her heart goes out to him; the years have not been kind to him, the world had dealt him many heavy blows, several of which were from her. He looks up and freezes as he sees her, then walks over. He stops in front of her, nodding a greeting.

She doesn’t know what to say; she bites her lower lip and nods as well. Without speaking, they walk to the entrance and he holds the door open for her. Still silent, she presses the button for the elevator, stepping inside when it arrives. He steps in behind her and leans against the side of the elevator, watching her. She meets his eyes.

‘You look tired.’

‘Caroline was sick all night. Ben took her to the doctor’s this morning.’

She sees a flicker of concern in his eyes. ‘Is she okay?’

‘I don’t know. She had a slight fever last night and then this morning when she woke up… she was very feverish, her stomach was hurting, and she couldn’t focus on me. Ben took her as soon as possible.’

He stiffens at that, but says, ‘will you let me know how she is?’

She nods and the elevator opens on Shelly’s floor. Her assistant is waiting for them.

‘Can I get you anything? Ms. Kates is waiting in the conference room; I’ll take you back if you’re ready.’

‘Coffee would be great,’ Mike says.

She nods. ‘I’ll bring you to the conference room, then get your coffee. Dr. Olivet?’

‘Yes, coffee, please,’ she says, her exhaustion hitting her. She may have slept through the night but she is so worried about Caroline it certainly wasn’t restful… 

She follows them into the conference room; Shelly and another associate, one she recognizes from other trials.

‘Good morning, you two. Detective Logan, good to see you,’ she says, coming around the table to shake his hand.

‘You too, Ms. Kates.’

‘Call me Shelly,’ she says, and he grins at her reflexively, never one to resist an opportunity for flirtation.

‘Then you’ve gotta call me Mike.’

She smiles too. ‘This is Helen Parker. She’ll be representing you for the purposes of this deposition, though I will also, of course, be present. As we’re members of the same firm and our clients--you and Liz--have the same interest in this outcome, you both are protected by attorney/client privilege by us individually and by work product. This prep session constitutes work product.’

‘Sure,’ Mike says, leaning back in his chair, accepting the cup of coffee her assistant brings in. She accepts her own, then turns her attention to Shelly.

‘Great. Let’s get started. Unless you have any objections, Mike, we’ll film this to review later. Answer as fully as you can, then we can pare down your answers.’

‘No problem.’

‘Okay. When did your relationship with Dr. Olivet begin?’

‘We met in 1990 when she began working at the 27th Precinct, then she began counseling me in April 1991 when my partner was shot and killed.’

‘And your personal relationship with her?’

He darts a quick glance at her. ‘July 1991. I’d already… come to terms with my partner’s death and we were just finishing out the remaining mandated sessions. We were working on a case together and…’ he looks at her again, clearly lost in his memories. ‘It was a hot summer’s day. After walking through a thirty-year-old crime scene, we got ice cream. I mentioned that it was my birthday and she invited me out to dinner. I walked her home and kissed her, then…’

‘Then what?’ Shelly asks.

‘What, you want the details?’ he replies, startled out of his nostalgia.

‘No--what happened after?’

‘Oh. Well, we discussed it, agreed it was only a one-time thing. She transferred my case the next day to another department shrink.’

‘But it wasn’t a one-time thing, was it?’

He looks down at his hands, twisting his ring. ‘No,’ he says at last. ‘It wasn’t. Towards the end of the summer we met up together, socially, a few more times before starting a relationship at the end of that year.’

‘And your relationship ended when?’

He takes a swig of coffee before continuing. ‘May 1995.’

‘Did you ever seek out Dr. Olivet for counseling after the end of your relationship?’

Mike looks up at Shelly, frowning. ‘Not officially. Not like for a session or anything.’

‘But unofficially--you sought her help?’

‘Not as a therapist. I needed to talk to her. I knew she could help, y’know.’ He looks over at her again, his eyes meeting hers for a second before she lowers her gaze. ‘We were… close.’

Before he can continue her cell phone rings, a shrill sound even buried in the depths of her purse. She immediately plunges her hand inside, searching for it, and when she finds it she presses the call button, standing up from her seat and leaving the conference room without an explanation.

‘Elizabeth--it’s appendicitis. She needs an appendectomy immediately.’

‘Oh, God,’ she breathes, her heart pounding. ‘Is she all right?’

‘We’re going to Lenox Hill now, we’re waiting for the ambulance--can you meet us there, please?’

‘I’ll leave right now. Text me, let me know which floor. Tell Caroline I love her and I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

‘I will,’ he promises.

She hangs up the phone and goes back into the conference room, noticing that Mike is standing, looking at her.

‘Is everything all right?’ Shelly asks.

‘My daughter’s in the hospital--she has appendicitis, she has to have surgery. I’m so sorry, I have to go,’ she says, frantically shoving things back into her purse.

‘Call a car for Dr. Olivet,’ Shelly instructs Helen, who rushes over to the phone.

‘I’ll drive,’ Mike says tightly, coming over to her.

‘Mike--’

‘I’ll drive,’ he says, his tone brooking no argument.

Shelly, to her credit, simply nods. ‘Let me know how she is--I’ll reschedule the depos if we need to.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, then looks at Mike. He rests his hand on her back as she moves towards the door, all but running down the hallway to the elevator. It seems to take years to arrive and when it finally does she slams her hand down on the lobby button.

‘What did Stone say?’

‘They’re at her doctor’s office, waiting for an ambulance to take them to Lenox Hill.’

‘Where’s the office? How long’s it gonna take for the ambulance to get there?’

‘Sixty-Third and Park. It shouldn’t take long.’

‘Why not a cab, then?’

‘I don’t know, Mike.’

The elevator doors open into the lobby and he takes her arm, guiding her out of the lobby and to his car, opening the door for her. She slides in and closes the door behind her, her hands clutched together, glancing over at him as opens the door and turns on the car.

‘Drive quickly,’ she says, and he nods, glancing over at her for an instant before pulling out of his spot. As he pulls into traffic, then turns onto 1st Avenue--‘the FDR’s backed up,’ he explains--he glances at her again.

‘Has she--has she ever been sick like this before?’

‘No.’ She closes her eyes. ‘Never like this. We’ve been lucky.’

‘An appendectomy isn’t a major surgery,’ he says, trying to soothe her.

‘It’s still surgery!’ she snaps.

‘I know.’ He reaches out to take her hand. She grips it like a lifeline, then her phone rings.

‘Ben? Are you at the hospital?’

She can hear a thin, high scream in the background and her heart clenches in fear--her daughter.

‘They think her appendix ruptured--we’re in the ambulance, she needs surgery now.’

She can hear another scream.

‘Oh, my God.’

‘Where are you, Elizabeth?’

She looks out the window. ‘Fifty-third and First.’

‘We’re going straight to the operating room--we’re pulling into the hospital now--’

‘Let me talk to her,’ she begs.

‘Here--’ he says, and presumably he holds the phone up to her. She can hear her daughter cry out again.

‘Darling--darling, I’m on my way, I’ll be there soon--’

‘It hurts, Mommy!’

‘I know, darling, I know, but it’ll be all right, it will be fine. I love you, sweetheart, I love you, I love you so much.’

She screams again and she clutches Mike’s hand tightly. Ben comes back on the line.

‘We’re here, Elizabeth, get here as soon as you can.’

‘We’re at Sixtieth now--’

‘I’ve got to go.’ He hangs up.

‘What is it?’ Mike asks urgently.

‘Her appendix ruptured--they just got to the hospital, she’s going into surgery immediately.’ She starts to cry. ‘Oh, God, Mike--’

‘It’s gonna be okay, Lizzie, we’re almost there, you’re gonna see her--’ he grips her hand.

‘She was screaming. Our daughter--oh, God, Mike, our daughter! What if something happens?’

He turns onto Seventy-Seventh at last. ‘I’m gonna drop you off, park the car, okay? I’ll find you.’

She nods, biting her lip to fight back her tears.

He pulls up to the entrance. ‘Tell her I love her,’ he says, and she nods, running out of the car and into the hospital.

She stops at the admitting desk. ‘My daughter--she’s here for emergency surgery, Caroline Stone--’

The competent, unflappable nurse at the desk types into her computer.

‘She’s on the thirteenth floor.’

‘Has she gone into surgery yet?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, then rushes to the elevator.

Ben is waiting, pacing, by the elevators and he looks up in relief when she arrives. He’s holding Topsy in his hand.

‘Oh, thank God,’ he says, coming over to her.

‘Is she in surgery?’

He nods, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her to a group of chairs.

‘She went in about fifteen minutes ago. The surgeon seems good, said it should take about three hours.’

She nods and he takes her hand.

‘Was she--okay? Does she know what’s happening?’

‘She’s scared and she was in a lot of pain. I don’t think I’ll ever forget her scream…’

‘My poor, poor darling,’ she murmurs, and he squeezes her hand. ‘I should have stayed. I should have cancelled my meeting with Shelly.’

‘It would have happened if you were here or not--don’t blame yourself.’

‘I know--but maybe she wouldn’t have been so scared if I was there.’

The elevator doors open and Mike steps out, looking around before he spots her. He walks over, stopping in front of them, and she feels Ben tense next to her.

‘How is she?’

‘She’s in surgery. Ben said that the surgeon thinks it will be about three hours.’

He nods, glancing quickly at Ben. ‘I think I’m gonna get some coffee. Can I get you anything?’

‘A coffee, please,’ she says, clearing her throat. ‘Thanks.’

‘Sure. Ben?’

He shakes his head and she watches them stare at each other for a moment before Mike shrugs and walks down the hall, his shoulders tense.

‘He drove me,’ she says, forestalling his comments. ‘We were in the middle of a prep session when you called.’

‘And why’s he still here?’

‘He cares about her too,’ she says, and he sighs.

‘He’s always going to be a part of our life, isn’t he?’

She nods, studying him carefully.

He sighs again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ‘I know I brought him back into our life.’ She can’t deny it; he did. ‘I introduced him to Caroline,’ he continues. ‘And of course he cares about her--she’s your daughter. Don’t you think he pretends sometimes that she’s his child, that you are his wife? Don’t you think he’s still in love with you?’

She closes her eyes, his words truer than he realizes. She says, ‘He’s not still in love with me. He’s seeing someone else.’

‘Ah. Well.’

Before she can comment Mike comes back carrying two coffees, handing her one.

‘Milk, one sugar, right?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ she replies, accepting it. She takes a sip, watching as he starts to pace.

‘I should call Shelly, let her know that Caroline’s in surgery,’ she says, setting down her coffee to rummage in her purse for her phone.

‘I’ll call her,’ Ben offers, squeezing her hand. ‘Do you want me to call anyone else?’

‘My parents. Peter and Miranda,’ she says, beginning to realize that there are people who need to know. ‘We’ll need to call her school after the surgery too, to let them know how long she’ll be out.’

‘Of course. I’ll be back shortly.’ He squeezes her hand again and hands her Topsy, then stands up, walking over to the phone bank down the hall. As soon as he leaves, Mike takes his seat, dragging his chair out so that he sits at a right angle, his knees just brushing hers. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair.

‘How long’s it been?’

She looks down at her watch. ‘Half an hour.’

He lets out an explosive sigh. ‘God, Liz--another hour and a half at least.’

Her hands are clutched tightly around her daughter’s toy. ‘I need her to be all right.’

‘She has to be, doesn’t she? It’s not that complicated a surgery.’

‘It’s much worse when the appendix is ruptured. There’s an enormous risk of infection.’

He runs a hand through his hair.

‘You don’t have to stay. I can call you when she’s out of surgery.’

‘Of course I’m gonna stay. She’s my daughter.’

She glances at Ben; he is still down the hall, talking on the phone.

‘Have you told Detective Barek?’ she whispers.

‘No,’ he says, twisting his ring.

‘Will you?’

‘Will you tell Stone?’

She buries her head in her hands. Her words are muffled. ‘I need her to be all right.’

‘I know.’ He rests a hand on her knee. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘I don’t know.’

She looks up as she hears footsteps approach.

‘Shelly’s going to reschedule the depositions for later next week. Your parents weren’t at home, neither were Peter and Miranda; I left them messages.’

‘Thank you, Ben.’

He takes the seat on her other side and sighs.

‘I’m going to see if there’s an update. I can’t just sit here,’ she says, standing up. It takes a few minutes to get the attention of the nurse, who tells her that she doesn’t have an update.

‘Is there any way to get one?’

‘I’m sorry, no,’ she says. ‘It shouldn’t be much longer; appendectomies are usually quick.’

She goes back to their chairs, looking at these two men. Ben is sitting straight up, rubbing the bridge of his nose, his glasses in his hand. Mike is hunched over, looking down into his cup of coffee. She is reminded of the night Claire died, the endless waiting, and prays that the outcome today is different.

‘They couldn’t give me an update,’ she says, and they look up at her. She sits back between them and closes her eyes, praying.


	6. Chapter 6

Two hours pass; a lifetime. Time has never passed so slowly before, not for Claire, not when Caroline was born. Ben somehow manages to flip through one of the magazines on the table but Mike can’t sit still; he paces back and forth, going down the hallway to the cafeteria and bringing back a whole host of things--more coffee, pastries, sandwiches… She can’t move. She sits still, clutching Topsy to her chest, watching these two men.

Her phone rings; her parents, at last, but she doesn’t know what to say. She hands her phone to Ben, who walks down to the phone bank again to talk to her mother. Mike pauses in his pacing and sits next to her, silent, his hand on her shoulder.

‘Talk to me, Mike,’ she begs him. ‘Help me get my mind off this endless waiting.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’ He sighs, dropping his hand, and his eyes rest on the toy bunny, venturing, ‘I can’t believe that she still has her.’

She looks down at Topsy too, stroking the bunny’s worn ears. ‘Topsy’s always been her favorite toy. She took her everywhere until she was five; even now she can’t sleep without her.’

‘I’m glad that she loves her.’ He reaches out, touching the toy’s little paw, running his thumb along the faded red cotton heart. ‘I sewed this here, y’know.’

She looks up at him, startled. ‘You did?’

He nods. ‘Yeah. I didn’t tell you… thought you might think it was stupid, but I wanted her to know…’

‘I don’t think it’s stupid,’ she says at last, swallowing back sudden tears.

‘Who does she think gave her the toy?’

‘She’s never asked.’

He nods as though he expects the answer and his cell phone rings. Digging it out of his pocket, he peers at the screen.

‘Gotta take this,’ he says, meeting her gaze apologetically. She nods and watches as he flips open the phone, walking off towards the elevators. His shoulders are tense and he is clearly trying to maintain his calm, though his movements are jerky as the conversation continues. He snaps the phone shut, then walks back to her.

‘Everything all right?’

He shrugs, scuffing his foot along the ground. Ben comes back and hands her her phone.

‘Your parents want us to call them as soon as she’s out of surgery. They’ll come down tomorrow morning first thing.’

‘Okay,’ she replies, forcing herself to maintain her calm. ‘How much longer, Ben?’

‘I don’t know.’

She sighs and closes her eyes, sagging into the chair. ‘It’s been three hours.’

‘I’ll ask for an update,’ Mike offers, and she opens her eyes.

‘They’re not going to tell you anything. I’ll go,’ Ben says tightly, walking off. He returns a moment later. ‘The doctor will be out to talk to us in a minute.’

She jumps out of her seat. ‘Is she all right?’ 

‘I don’t know. They didn’t say.’

‘They need to tell us! I need to know!’ she exclaims, starting towards the nurses’ station when Mike grabs her by the wrist to prevent her. She whirls around angrily to look at him but at the expression on his face--so solemn, so guarded--her anger fades. He is going through the same thing, he is suffering too, but he can’t show it. She bites her lip and nods briefly in acknowledgement and he lets go of her hand.

‘Mr. Stone? Dr. Olivet?’ a woman’s calm voice comes from behind her and she turns to see the surgeon, still clad in her scrubs, her surgical mask hanging around her neck. ‘I’m Doctor Wolfe, your daughter’s surgeon.’

Her heart is in her throat and she takes an involuntary step forward. Ben stands beside her, resting his hand on her back.

‘How is she, Doctor?’ Ben asks, squeezing her shoulder.

The surgeon’s face is solemn. ‘The appendix was removed successfully, however, by the time we started the operation the appendix had ruptured and the blockage had seeped into the abdomen. There’s still a great risk for infection; she’ll need to remain in the hospital for at least a week to monitor her progress, but she came out of the surgery well.’

‘Thank God,’ she says, and starts to cry. Ben embraces her and she clutches at him, looking at Mike over his shoulder. He runs his hand through his hair, letting out an enormous sigh of relief, and she stretches out her hand to him. He looks at her in surprise but takes it, squeezing tight for a brief instant before Ben lets her go and she steps away.

‘Thank you,’ Ben says.

‘Can we see her?’ she asks.

Dr. Wolfe nods. ‘She’ll still be under the effects of anesthesia for another hour or two, but she’s been moved to a room on the fifth floor in the pediatric wing. She has her own room and there’s plenty of space for one or both of you to stay with her while she’s in the hospital.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, and the surgeon nods and walks away.

Ben’s hand moves from her shoulder to her back, rubbing soothing circles. ‘Let’s go down and see her, hmm? Then I can go to your apartment, pick up whatever things you and Caroline will need.’

Even though she knew he wouldn’t want to spend a week at the hospital with her daughter it hurts the way he so coolly says it. Mike would spend every night with her, wouldn’t he, just like he did with her when… 

‘I can do that, if you want,’ Mike offers, interrupting her thoughts.

Ben looks over at him, his hand stilling its movements. ‘Thanks for the offer, Logan, but we’re all right. I really appreciate you driving Elizabeth here and waiting with us.’

She can tell he’s hurt by this dismissal, though he hides it well. ‘Yeah, sure. I should get goin’ anyway… let me know if you need anything, Liz, and tell Caroline I hope she feels better soon.’

‘I will. Thank you, Mike,’ she says softly.

He nods and stuffs his hands in his pockets, walking towards the elevators. As she moves to follow, to go downstairs to her daughter, Ben catches her elbow and holds her back until he gets on the elevator and disappears. He then guides her to the elevators, his hand firmly on her back, and she allows herself to be led. He presses the button for the fifth floor and slides his arm around her waist.

‘Will you write me a list of everything you need? Everything she might want?’

She nods, staring straight ahead. 

‘I can take the week off from work if you need to go into the office, that way she doesn’t have to be here alone. And I’m sure your parents will stay in this city this week, so will Peter and Miranda…’

She nods again, desperate to see her daughter, to reassure herself that she’s all right.

‘Do you want me to get you anything from your office?’

She shakes her head. ‘I don’t think I can concentrate.’

‘She’s okay now, Elizabeth,’ he reassures her.

‘You heard what the doctor said--there’s still a significant risk for infection.’

‘She’s a strong, healthy girl--she’s your daughter, after all.’

The doors open on the fifth floor, a cheerful, happy place filled with bright colors, smiling nurses, and laughing children. She glances at her husband, a frown puckering his forehead. She knows that he won’t be spending much time here at all; this is not a place where he will be comfortable.

‘How can I help you?’ the nurse asks, smiling at them.

‘Our daughter, Caroline Stone, was just brought down after an appendectomy,’ she says, taking charge.

‘Yes--of course. I’ll show you to her room. I’m Zach, I’m in charge of your daughter’s section of the floor. Will you follow me?’

They do, Ben’s hand on her waist again as they walk down the corridor. It’s painted with a mural of a wide variety of animals in different, colorful locations. Caroline’s room is towards the end of the hall and has her name on it in a sticker shaped like a whale, continuing the animal theme. The nurse opens the door and she sighs in relief as she sees her daughter, rushing to her side.

She is still unconscious and pale, her freckles standing out sharply. Her shoulder-length brown hair is matted with sweat and her hands are resting on top of the covers, clenched into fists. She tucks her hair behind her ear. Her beautiful baby… 

‘Elizabeth,’ Ben says, and she tears her eyes away from her daughter to look at him. Zach smiles at her.

‘I was just explaining to your husband that the pediatric wing here is very family-centered. There’s a private bathroom here and the sofa folds out to a remarkably comfortable bed for parents to stay overnight. There are towels and sheets in the closet there,’ he says, indicating the door in the corner. ‘Other visitors are welcome and encouraged from nine to six every day, with a few exceptions. Menus for meals are distributed every morning at breakfast and outside food is welcome too. There’s a playroom down the hall for when Caroline’s feeling better, and we have a selection of movies and books at the nurses’ station.’ He smiles. ‘Any questions?’

‘Can she take a shower when she wakes up?’

‘Not for a couple of days. We’ll have one of our pediatricians come by to explain everything after dinner, when Caroline is feeling up to it. If you need anything, there’s the call button on the bed remote. Let me know if you need anything.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, shooting him a quick smile before turning back to her daughter. Zach closes the door behind him and then Ben comes up beside her.

‘Let’s start making a list of what you both will need,’ he says, and she nods, reluctantly tearing herself away from her daughter. She draws up the list quickly, including some of Caroline’s favorite books, board games, and comfortable clothes for her when she can get dressed.

‘We need to call my parents too,’ she says.

‘I’ll do that,’ he offers. ‘And I’ll go to the apartment to pick up your things.’

‘Thank you.’

He kisses the top of her head as he stands up. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

When he leaves the room she brings a chair over to Caroline’s side, holding Topsy in her lap and her daughter’s hand in hers, easing her fingers out of their fist. Her skin is cool and her breathing is even now, to her enormous relief. Her left arm has an IV attached and a monitor for her pulse. Looking away from her daughter for a minute, she glances around the room. Besides Caroline’s bed and the sofa bed, there is a table and chairs beneath the television, an armchair in the corner, and the door opposite the closet which she presumes is the bathroom. The room is painted blue and has windows looking down onto Park Avenue, a familiar view. She can hear the faintest thread of an ambulance claxon drift up and she thanks God that her daughter made it through her surgery.

‘Mommy?’ Caroline says weakly, opening her eyes.

‘I’m here, baby,’ she replies, squeezing her hand. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better,’ she says, and she smiles in relief.

‘Good. I was so worried, darling.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry! I’m so glad you’re all right.’

‘Did I interrupt your meeting?’

‘Don’t worry about that.’ She strokes her hair, looking into her eyes. ‘Daddy’s just gone to pick up a few things for us--I’m going to stay here with you.’

She nods, yawning a bit. ‘How long will I be here?’

‘The doctors think a week and then we can go home. Think about it as a little vacation--we can read books, watch movies… Your grandparents will be here in the morning, too.’

‘Do you have to go to work?’

‘I’ll go get some files on Monday but I’m going to take the week off to stay with you.’

Caroline smiles widely. ‘Good!’

She smiles back. ‘It will be a lot of fun.’

Her daughter nods. ‘Is that okay, Mommy? If you have to work Daddy could stay with me.’

‘Of course it’s all right. I don’t have anywhere to be except with you, and Topsy,’ she says, handing her the toy. Her daughter’s face lights up and she hugs her to her chest, her thumb rubbing the heart sewn to her paw just as her father’s did earlier.

‘Was Topsy worried?’ she asks, looking up at her.

‘Yes, she was. We were all worried, darling--Mike was worried too,’ she says, compelled to talk about him, to pass along his message to their daughter.

‘Mike was worried?’ she asks tentatively, her eyes shining as she contemplates his concern. Her affection for him worries her, afraid that she’ll be hurt. Her daughter still sees him when she visits her father at work, and despite her hurt from his words last summer she still loves to see him, to spend time with him, finding him a far more satisfactory playmate than Ben. When she comes home after these excursions she is filled with stories of him and begs stories in return, inevitably dragging out photo albums to pore over.

‘Yes, he was. We were at the same meeting and he drove me to the hospital, then waited here with me and Daddy until we knew you were okay. He wanted me to tell you that he hopes you feel better soon.’

‘Do you think he’ll come to visit me?’

‘I don’t know,’ she admits, and to her distress Caroline’s face falls. ‘But Grandmother and Grandfather will be here tomorrow, and I bet that Uncle Teddy and Aunt Chrissy will bring your cousins after school on Monday. And Daddy will be back soon too. And later, after dinner, one of the doctors is going to come and talk to us, and you’ll have a chance to meet the nurse who’s going to help take care of you--his name is Zach and he seems very nice.’

‘Do you think I’ll be better in time to go trick-or-treating?’

‘Let’s ask the doctor after dinner, okay?’

‘Okay. When is dinner? And what time is it?’

She looks at her watch--it’s only two in the afternoon. God, this day feels like it’s been years long already… 

‘It’s two o’clock. Are you hungry? I can run down to the cafeteria and get you something.’

‘No, I’m not hungry. Just tired.’

‘You can take a nap if you want.’

‘I’ll wait for Daddy,’ she says, yawning.

‘Okay, baby. He should be back soon.’

She nods and yawns again when a knock comes on the door and her husband opens it.

‘How are you feeling, sweetie?’

‘Better. Tired.’

He sets the two tote bags down next to the sofa and walks over to her bed.

‘I’m glad you’re feeling better. You gave us quite a scare,’ he says. ‘Did Mommy tell you that she’s going to be staying with you?’

‘Yes, she did.’

‘Well, I think you both are going to have a fun time. When you’re feeling a bit better there’s a playroom with a lot of fun toys. I brought some things for you--let me know if you want anything else. I’ll be by every day to see you, okay?’

‘Thank you, Daddy. I’m sorry we’re missing our weekend together.’

He pats her ankle lightly. ‘That’s okay. We’ll have a really special weekend when you’re feeling better, okay?’

‘Okay,’ she agrees.

‘I’ll let you take a nap--you look tired.’ He comes to her side to kiss her forehead and then looks across the bed at her. ‘Can I talk to you a minute, please, Elizabeth?’

‘I’ll be right back, darling,’ she says, squeezing her daughter’s hand before following Ben out of the room.

‘When do you want me to come by this week?’ he asks, resting his hand on her arm.

‘I don’t know how she’ll be feeling--she might want to sleep a lot. But whenever you can come…’

He nods. ‘And call me if I can do anything, Elizabeth--I’m so glad that she’s okay.’

‘Me too,’ she sighs, relieved and exhausted. ‘Um, one of the pediatricians is coming this evening to discuss everything. I can give you a call after that?’

‘That sounds good.’ He dips his head to kiss her cheek. ‘I’ll bring your things from my apartment, too, tomorrow. I liked having you there,’ he admits. ‘To have you in my arms…’

She ducks her head, avoiding his gaze, embarrassed at sliding backwards into something so easy… ‘Thank you for letting me stay. I know that things have been… difficult. It was good to have you there last night.’

He slips his fingers beneath her chin, lifting it to look into her eyes. ‘Maybe, when Caroline’s out of the hospital and feeling better, we could go to dinner?’

‘I’d like that.’

His smile is so gentle and loving her heart flips over. This is the man she married ten years ago, the man who always just wanted to take care of her. No matter what else passed between them he was always that person. He dips his head again and kisses her, this time on the lips, and she kisses him back lightly.

He rests his forehead against hers when they break apart. ‘I’ll talk to you later.’

She nods and he kisses her again briefly before smiling and walking away.


	7. Chapter 7

Their first night in the hospital is restless for her, though not for Caroline. Her daughter was asleep when she went back into the room after her conversation with Ben and she slept straight through until dinner. She wasn’t hungry, confining herself to eating a bit of ice cream, and barely managed to stay awake to talk to the doctor. Because her appendix burst, they will need to change the dressing at the incision site every day, and she would only be able to take sponge baths for the first few days. Her daughter fell asleep immediately after the doctor left and she sat by her side for hours, holding her hand.

Thank God it wasn’t worse. Thank God she made it out of surgery safely. Her beloved daughter… the only child she’ll ever have. More than anything in the world she wants her to be safe and happy. She’s seen too many children in pain, too many abused and neglected and unloved… including Mike. The effects of his childhood are still incredibly visible all these years later. Looking back at the past seventeen years, she can clearly see all his acts of self-sabotage, the way he won’t let himself be happy--sleeping with Sherri West, walking out on their life together, punching that councilman and derailing his career, never fighting for her… telling their daughter he never wanted children when they finally had a chance to be a family… And now he’s with Detective Barek, a strong woman who might be able to reach him the way she never could. He always felt that he wasn’t good enough for her, insisted on it despite her protests--maybe he is happier with Barek, maybe he can find peace with her. She wants that for him, wants him to be happy… even if it’s not with them.

But God, his daughter. The older Caroline gets the more she resembles him. Nature versus Nurture… if she didn’t believe that both were right and both were wrong, she would know it for a fact now. Even though she was raised by Ben, possessing his quiet, all-seeing observation, every physical gesture is Mike’s--the way she stands, the tilt of her head, the furrow of her brow when she is frustrated, her smile… And there’s her personality, too--she is fiercely loyal and loving and devoted, with a quick temper that sometimes gets her into trouble. She is so completely Mike’s daughter that she still questions how the ever-observant man she married has never seen it.

She fell asleep in the chair at her daughter’s bedside, holding her hand, waking up with a crick in her neck but an enormous sense of relief that her daughter slept through the night. They finish breakfast--quite disgusting and she makes up her mind to get takeout for all of their meals--and she sits next to Caroline on her bed, beginning to read _Swallows & Amazons_, when her parents arrive.

‘Darling girl, when we said we’d see you soon we didn’t expect to see you in the hospital!’ Isobel says, coming to her side to kiss her granddaughter. Caroline hugs her grandmother, then her grandfather, tight, and Nick pulls up chairs to her bedside.

‘How are you feeling?’ her father asks, looking at both of them.

‘Better. My stomach still hurts a little but not like it did earlier.’

‘Good. We need you better soon--remember, I’m planning to teach you paddle tennis this fall!’

Caroline giggles.

Isobel says, ‘Your father said you’d be in the hospital for about a week, so we brought you a few things to make the time less boring.’

‘Thank you! It hasn’t been boring so far--Mommy and I have been reading,’ Caroline says.

Isobel looks at the book and smiles in reminiscence. ‘This was your mommy’s favorite book, Caroline. When she had her tonsils removed we read this book together.’

She catches her mother’s soft gaze and remembers too, cuddled up in bed with her, holding a bowl of vanilla ice cream, her head resting on her mother’s shoulder and her eyes fixed on the sea outside her window. She loved listening to her mother read to her; she made the books come alive with different voices for each character, and she smiles too. She always, always knew she was loved by her parents and she feels so blessed to have emerged from childhood knowing beyond any doubt that she was loved, especially considering the alternative… 

‘We can stay in the city all week, if you’d like, Liz,’ her father offers. ‘If you need to go to work.’

‘I’ve actually decided to take the week off, but I know that we’d love to have you to stay in the city. If you’d want to stay at the apartment…’

Isobel agrees. ‘That sounds like a great idea. That way we’ll be only a few blocks away and we can spend as much time as possible with you,’ she says, smiling at Caroline. ‘Do you want to see what we brought you?’

‘Yes, please!’ Caroline exclaims eagerly, and her mother laughs.

‘Nick, hand me the bag, will you?’ she asks, and her father does as he’s asked. Caroline carefully extracts a few coloring books, new colored pencils, a puzzle, and a game called Apples to Apples.

‘Thank you!’

‘Teddy recommended it to us--he said that it’s Eliza’s favorite game, so we thought you might like it.’

‘I love it! Eliza and I play all the time,’ Caroline says.

‘Teddy did say that he would bring Eliza after school on Tuesday,’ Isobel says, to Caroline’s delight. ‘So, should we play?’

Before they can open the game a knock comes to the door and it opens, revealing a nurse.

‘Good morning! I’m Jacki,’ the short blond woman says brightly. ‘You must be Caroline and her family!’

She can sense her mother’s annoyance at both the interruption and the overly perky attitude and suppresses a smile.

‘I’m the nurse on duty today--Caroline, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take you down the hall to the examination room so I can check on your incision and change the bandage, okay? We’ll be right back.’

‘Can I go with her?’ she asks.

Jacki chirps, ‘Sure! I’ll go get a wheelchair--we don’t want you to overexert yourself.’ The nurse excuses herself.

‘Why don’t we come back this evening?’ her father suggests. ‘We can bring something for dinner and all eat together.’

‘Okay,’ Caroline agrees. ‘And then we can play Apples to Apples?’

‘Absolutely,’ he smiles.

She stands up to hug her parents. ‘You have the keys, don’t you? If not, there should be a spare set at the desk.’

‘We’re all set. We’ll see you around 6, okay?’

She nods, hugging her mother tight. ‘Thank you for coming.’

Jacki comes back with a wheelchair and her parents kiss their granddaughter goodbye.

Caroline’s check-up goes well and an hour later they go back to her room.

‘Let’s wash your hair, sweetie. I bet we can wash it in the sink.’

‘Okay. It feels weird that I didn’t take a shower last night.’

‘I bet it does. Well, we can wash your hair and then we can get changed into comfy pyjamas, how does that sound?’

‘That sounds good.’

She sets up a chair in front of the sink and settles her daughter with a towel around her shoulders to protect the hospital gown from splashing water. Caroline dips her head back and she washes her hair, the same bright auburn hers was years ago. Genetics are amazing, she thinks, rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. She looks so much like her it’s startling, despite Mike’s contribution.

She wraps her hair in a towel and smiles down at her daughter. ‘There--do you feel a bit better?’

‘Much,’ she says with enthusiasm. ‘Can I change into pyjamas now please?’

‘Of course. Let me get your nightgown.’

She exits the bathroom and rummages through the bag of clothes Ben brought over last night--she needs to unpack, maybe this afternoon--and finds Caroline’s nightgown. She’s wearing comfortable clothes as well, leggings and a thin v-neck sweater so that she can curl up next to her daughter. Despite the fear of yesterday she is so grateful to shut out the world for the week and spend time with her daughter. Her childhood is passing by so quickly and soon she’ll be grown up. She sighs, saddened by the passage of time, though she is grateful she has this week. When she steps back into the bathroom her daughter has turned the chair around and is peering at her reflection.

‘What are you doing, darling?’

She meets her gaze in the mirror. ‘I look a lot like you, don’t I, Mommy?’

‘Yes, you do,’ she replies, smiling as she stands behind her. ‘And your grandmother. From the moment you were born everyone remarked on it.’

‘I don’t really look like Daddy at all, or Julie,’ she comments, mentioning Ben’s first daughter.

‘Well, no--you look like our family. I don’t really look like my father at all, either, except my eyes.’

Caroline studies her consideringly and nods. As she does, she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

‘Now, let’s get changed, hmm?’

‘Okay.’ Caroline sheds her hospital gown with a little difficulty, wincing as she lifts her hands above her head to allow her to drop the nightgown over her. Settled, she twists her daughter’s wet hair into a braid, securing the end with a hair tie from her makeup bag.

‘There. You’re all set,’ she says, dropping a kiss on her forehead. ‘Do you want to read or watch TV?’

‘Read--I like it when you read to me, Mommy.’

‘Me too, sweetheart.’ She follows her daughter back to her room, sitting next to her in bed. Caroline snuggles up next to her, her head resting on her shoulder, and she opens the book and begins to read.

‘Roger, aged seven, and no longer the youngest of the family, ran in wide zigzags, to and fro, across the steep field that sloped up from the lake to Holly Howe, the farm where they were staying for that part of the summer holidays…’

They just start the second chapter when someone knocks.

‘Come in!’ she calls, and she is startled when Mike eases open the door.

‘Mike!’ Caroline cries in delight, though her brow furrows in confusion as he opens the door further and Detective Barek appears at his side.

‘Hey, honey,’ he says, a strained smile on his face as he doesn’t quite meet her eyes. ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Okay,’ she replies, cautious.

He steps inside, Barek following him. Mike is carrying a bouquet of daisies and a gift bag. Busying himself with the flowers, setting them on the dresser beneath the television, he says offhandedly, ‘This is my girlfriend Carolyn. Caro, I think you’ve met Liz, and this is Caroline.’

She glances down at her daughter’s face; she is as startled as she feels, but Caroline summons up a tight little society smile and says, ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Isobel would be proud at their socialite-in-the-making, she thinks, forcing down an inappropriate and nervous giggle. 

Barek hovers behind him as Mike drags a chair to Caroline’s bedside. ‘I’m glad you’re feeling better. Your mommy was really scared.’

Caroline nods, moving almost imperceptibly away from him. She sees him register the point and watches Barek settle her shoulders, studying them silently.

‘So how long are you here?’ Mike asks.

‘A week.’

‘That’s not too bad. Are you bored?’

She shakes her head. ‘No. Grandmother and Grandfather brought me a game, and my cousin Eliza will be here on Tuesday after school, and Mommy and I have lots of books to read.’

‘What sort of books are you reading?’ Barek asks, speaking for the first time.

‘Mommy and I are reading _Swallows & Amazons_ right now, and next we’re going to read _Harry Potter_.’

Barek nods, her eyes watchful, flickering from her daughter, to Mike, herself, and then back to Caroline. ‘My nephews love the Harry Potter books. I love reading those books to them--it really seems real.’

‘How old are they?’ Caroline asks.

‘Eight and ten--good ages. How old are you?’

‘Eight,’ she says, and Barek nods.

‘Why don’t you give Caroline your gift?’ she prompts and Mike recalls himself.

‘Oh yeah, right,’ he says, holding out the present. Caroline accepts it, extracting a very nice leather-bound notebook. ‘Your mommy always liked to write--I thought you might like to, too,’ he explains, stumbling a bit, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. ‘Maybe you can write some stories in it?’

Her heart clenches as Caroline looks down at her gift, then raises her eyes to meet his gaze solemnly. ‘Thank you, Mike.’

‘Well, speaking of kids, we’ve got to go--family lunch at my parents’, and Mike promised he’d play touch football with my nephews,’ Barek says, staking her claim. She’s surprised that she’s so openly possessive, but then again she has no idea what Mike told her about their history. Barek continues, ‘They can’t get enough of him--he’s so great with them. I can’t wait till we have our own.’ She rests a proprietorial hand on his shoulder and he tenses under her touch, dropping his eyes.

She hasn’t said a word. Caroline says, ‘Thank you for the notebook and the flowers.’

Mike nods. ‘Any time, honey. Get better soon, okay?’

‘Thank you for coming,’ she says to Carolyn, who looks at her seriously, her scrutiny carrying far more weight than deserved for an eight-year-old.

‘Feel better and enjoy your books.’

‘Thank you. Bye.’

Mike reaches out as though to touch her cheek but clearly thinks better of it when Barek turns at the door and glances at him. He waves to them both and allows her to propel him out of the room and down the corridor. When they can no longer hear their footsteps in the corridor, her daughter looks at her.

‘Mike has a girlfriend,’ she says. ‘Did you know that, Mommy?’

She nods, still unsure if she can speak without betraying herself.

‘But I thought--’ she stops and bites her lip, looking down at the notebook he gave her.

‘Sometimes,’ she begins, clearing her throat, pushing down her own grief with enormous effort, ‘sometimes, no matter how much people love each other, they just aren’t meant to be together.’

Her daughter nods, absorbing this difficult lesson as her fingers tighten around the notebook. She wants to take her into her arms, to cuddle her and kiss her forehead and reassure her that no matter what happens in her life she loves her more than anything in the world. She wants only to reassure her that she will never feel this heartbreak, but she can’t promise that. Instead she watches a surreptitious tear makes its way down Caroline’s cheek as she turns and buries her head against her shoulder. She holds her tight, wrapping her arms around her and showering kisses on the top of her head, letting her own tears slip down her face.


	8. Chapter 8

Her daughter is subdued for the rest of the day, wanting only to read together and nap. Ben brings them lunch and tries to cheer her up, giving her a few new books, which she looks at then sets aside. He leaves after an hour and makes plans to come tomorrow for lunch. Her grandparents arrive with takeout from Sant Ambroeus, which she picks at, eating only a few bites. When her grandparents suggest playing her new game she shrugs and says she’d rather do the puzzle instead. Even then she doesn’t really focus on the puzzle, half-heartedly constructing the edges. Isobel and Nick write off her subdued behavior as a side effect of her medication and leave early, promising to bring breakfast in the morning. Caroline nods, then leans against her and closes her eyes as she continues reading. When the doctor comes to check on her that evening he is concerned by her listlessness and changes her antibiotics.

‘She should be more chipper than this,’ he says in explanation, pulling her out of the room to discuss Caroline’s progress. ‘I realize that hospitals can be boring and that she’s still mostly confined to bed for the next day or so, but she should be a bit more energetic.’

‘Her father and I are separating--she’s been having a tough time with that,’ she fibs, and the doctor nods, not fully convinced.

‘I doubt it’s completely that. The medication I’ve switched her to should be a bit better. Let’s keep an eye on her, though--we do want her energy levels to come back and listlessness can be a sign of an infection.’

‘I will.’

‘Good. And if the food isn’t appealing to her, we’d be happy to have a nurse sit with her if you wanted to go out and get something instead.’

‘Thank you--I think my parents will be bringing us breakfast but if not I’ll take you up on that tomorrow morning.’

‘Great. Let the nurses know if you need anything.’

She nods and rejoins her daughter, who has _Swallows & Amazons_ open before her, studying the map with feigned absorption. Caroline’s never been like this before, her spirit dimmed, her perceived rejection by Mike quenching that essential fire. Well, her daughter has never been like this, but there were certainly times when Mike came home to her, still and quiet, locked deep within himself, trapped in a place she couldn’t reach. Her heart aches; she hoped that Caroline would be able to avoid the despair that plagued him throughout his life.

‘Do you want to talk?’ she ventures.

Caroline shrugs, her eyes lowered, and she walks over to sit next to her on the bed. She strokes her daughter’s hair, waiting for her to speak.

At last, she says, ‘Daddy’s different. He doesn’t give me hugs or kisses when he picks me up from school and he never gives me piggyback rides and when he reads me stories at night he sits in a chair instead of on my bed like you do or the uncles do, even though he always does for Julie’s kids. But Mike… Mike likes to play and he talks to me like he’s interested. Daddy never wants to hear about my day and Mike does. He asks good questions and remembers things.’ Caroline stops for a moment and looks into her eyes, and her heart constricts as her daughter admits, ‘I know that Daddy loves me but sometimes I feel that Mike likes me more than Daddy does.’

Never before has she felt the conflict between being a mother and a psychologist so strongly. She wants to reassure her daughter but knows that Caroline needs to talk out her thoughts and feelings, so she remains silent and lets her continue.

‘I was nervous when you said that you and I were going to spend the whole day with Mike at the boat pond, because before we had only gone out to eat with him and never spent the whole day together… Eliza always tells me how fun it is when Uncle Teddy and Aunt Chrissy take them to the zoo or to the park but it’s not really fun when we go with Daddy. He always wants to go slowly, read everything, and he gets annoyed… when Mike came to the apartment and picked us up it felt different than that. You looked so happy and pretty, Mommy, when you smiled at him… you never smile at Daddy like that. And Mike looked happy too when he smiled back and he even kissed you, and then he asked if I wanted a piggyback ride to the park… it was nice. It felt different. Like a real family. Like it was supposed to be like that.’

 _Oh, God,_ she thinks, all she has time for before Caroline speaks again.

‘When you were getting us ice cream I asked Mike if he wanted children, because I thought that maybe… well, you were having such a good day with him, you were even holding his hand, and I was having so much fun…’ she starts to cry, painful, suppressed little sobs that shake her whole body. ‘And he said he didn’t. That he couldn’t picture himself as a dad.’

She takes her in her arms, holding her tight as she continues to weep.

‘I wanted him to be… I thought that maybe you and Mike would get married. That he could be my dad and we could go to the beach together and I would be on his team for Fourth of July football, because he would be mine…’ she wails, an involuntary sound of grief, breaking her heart into a million pieces. Her daughter clutches at her, her grip painful as she sobs so hard it terrifies her.

‘Shh, shh, my love, my darling, breathe--’

Caroline pulls back suddenly, gasping for breath, her eyes panicked. The beeps from the heart monitor in the corner run together and an alarm begins to go. A few moments later Jacki comes in, nearly unrecognizable from the perky woman of the morning, suddenly cool and competent.

‘What’s happening?’

‘I need you to move, Dr. Olivet,’ she says, and she scrambles off the bed. Caroline is gasping, clearly terrified, and Jacki bends over her. ‘Caroline, I think you might be having an allergic reaction to your medication. I need you to try to stay calm, to try to take deep breaths, okay?’

She is paralyzed with fear, looking at her daughter and the nurse.

Jacki continues to talk soothingly, preparing a syringe, pulling back the sheet as her daughter gasps for breath. Time stretches endlessly as the nurse injects her with epinephrine and Caroline finally falls back against the pillows, the color returning to her face. Jacki detaches the IV and checks her pulse, holding up a hand to keep her at a distance, and finally places her wrist back in her lap.

‘Okay, Caroline--I’m going to go get the doctor to check on you.’

As Jacki leaves the room she goes back to her daughter’s side. Caroline is crying again and stretching out her arms to her; she bends down and embraces her, holding her close.

‘My baby, my darling, darling girl--’ Her daughter clutches at her, her body still shaking from her ordeal.

The doctor comes back in the room. ‘Well, Miss Caroline, let’s not try that medicine again, shall we?’ he jokes. She steps away from her daughter’s side as he comes to examine her, checking her responses. At last he steps away from her bed. ‘I’m going to put you back on the medicine you were taking earlier--we’ll stick with that for the moment.’

She nods, tears still coursing silently down her face.

‘That was scary, wasn’t it?’ he asks, and she nods again. ‘Okay. How about I give you something to help you sleep?’

‘Okay,’ she says, her voice strained from sobbing. ‘Mommy?’

‘I’m right here, baby,’ she says, squeezing her hand.

‘Don’t leave, Mommy.’

‘I won’t--I’ll be right here.’

She nods and the doctor adds a sedative to the IV. He excuses himself and she holds her daughter’s hand tight as she falls asleep. When she is sleeping soundly, she lets go of her hand and finds her cell phone in her purse, dialing Ben’s number. When it goes to voicemail, she leaves him a message, briefly detailing the events of the evening. She calls her parents next, her mother reacting with horror.

‘My poor darling, what a traumatic thing to have happen! Should we come over, do you need us?’

‘No, that’s okay--the doctor gave her a sedative and I’m going to try to get some sleep too.’

‘Okay--please call us if we can do anything. We’ll be with you in the morning, around eight.’

‘Good night.’

‘Good night.’

She hangs up and looks at her daughter for a long moment before beginning to unpack their things. When everything is unpacked she takes a quick shower and makes up the sofa bed, slipping beneath the covers after checking on her daughter once more. She lies awake for hours, remembering her tears, her desperation when she couldn’t breathe, the betrayal on her face when Mike introduced Barek as his girlfriend.

She had no idea her daughter felt so strongly about Mike, had wanted to have him in their life so much. She had no idea Caroline felt such intense loss at Ben’s admittedly lackluster interest. She thought she was enough for her, could love her enough… she tried to be enough and she loved her more than anything. Her psychology Ph.D. and her years of working with children clearly meant nothing when she couldn’t see how her own daughter was suffering.

But what were her choices? When she got pregnant Mike was three years into a ten-year stint on Staten Island, clearly suffering from this sentence. His failure to return to Manhattan, his loss of everything he ever held dear--including her--was crushing him. He was angry and bereft and he wasn’t the man she knew. She didn’t know how to be with him anymore and couldn’t take the chance with her baby daughter… 

She never stopped loving him. As the years passed she grew to know him again and she still loved him. When Caroline was two they spent a week together… she almost left Ben that week, almost went back to Mike, but she couldn’t bring herself to take that final leap when her daughter was still so young. What if it didn’t work out? And last year… last year, too, he broke Caroline’s heart, and again today, and he would continue to do so just as he broke hers half a dozen times at least over the years they’ve known each other. No matter Ben’s faults as a father, his indifference, he never hurt Caroline like that.

Her daughter stirs, rolling over in bed, and she climbs out of her own bed to check on her. She’s all right and she goes to her toiletry case, extracting a sleeping pill from the prescription she rarely has cause to use any more. An hour later she finally passes into exhausted slumber, only to be woken up by her parents bringing breakfast.

 

After freshening up in the bathroom she rejoins her parents and her daughter. Caroline’s dramatic night has left her daughter exhausted despite the assistance of a sedative. She says she feels a bit dizzy and nauseated, taking a few bites of croissant and pushing it aside.

‘Are you not feeling well, sweetheart? Isobel asks. ‘Do you want us to get you something else?’

She shrugs and snuggles closer to her, resting her head on her shoulder.

Isobel starts talking about their plans for Thanksgiving, trying to distract them, when the door to Caroline’s room opens. Expecting Ben, she looks up with a smile, fading immediately as Mike opens the door. Caroline lets out an involuntary yelp, turning away from him, and her parents stare at him in astonishment. He looks equally astonished to see them, hunching his shoulders and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

‘Michael!’ Isobel says at last, recovering first. ‘It’s been a long time.’

‘Yeah, it has. How are you, Isobel, Nick?’

‘Well, we were worried after Caroline’s allergic reaction last night, but otherwise we’re fine.’

‘What happened?’ he asks, voice tight as he looks into her eyes.

‘She had a bad reaction to some medication,’ Isobel says. ‘But you’re doing much better now, aren’t you, darling?’

She can feel Caroline nod against her shoulder, though she doesn’t turn to look at him.

‘Do you want to sit down?’ her father offers. ‘Here, we can easily pull up a chair. We’re just finishing breakfast, but there’s extra coffee if you’d like some.’

‘Thanks, that would be great,’ he agrees, accepting the chair and the steaming cup of coffee handed to him by Nick.

‘What brings you to the hospital?’ Isobel asks, her chatty social tone almost obscuring her rampant curiosity.

‘Well, I stopped by for a quick visit yesterday but wanted to check in on Caroline,’ he replies, looking over at their daughter as he stretches long legs. ‘I had the morning off so I figured I’d swing by. How are you feeling, Caroline? I’m sorry you had such a rough night.’

Caroline doesn’t respond, simply buries her face against her shoulder. She avoids his gaze an attempt to ignore him, the profound grief she experienced yesterday welling up again.

Her parents are silent and she knows that her mother especially is weighing the situation to determine what’s going on.

Mike gives an awkward, forced laugh before taking a sip of coffee.

‘What have you been up to, Michael?’ Nick asks, attempting to ease the tension.

‘I’m on the Major Case Squad now, which has been great.’

‘Oh, yes, we heard about that from Ben,’ Isobel says. ‘What else?’

He shrugs. ‘Nothing much, just work really.’

‘I’m sure you must have some sort of personal life. Are you married now?’

She’s surprised her mother is so blunt but why not? He’s intruding and they have no idea why he’s here.

‘Well, no. I’m seein’ someone but we’re not quite at that stage yet.’ He looks down into his coffee, figuring out his next move. ‘So have you been sailing a lot this fall? Caroline was tellin’ me how much she’s enjoying learning to sail and especially sailing on the Selkie.’

Caroline holds her breath for a moment, lifting her head to look into her eyes. Her face is painful to contemplate, highlighting so clearly her own feelings for Mike--love and loss and longing all bound up in one. 

He presses on, this time directing his statement to the two of them, ‘I remember the first time Liz took me out on that boat. It was Christmas and I couldn’t see the appeal, but it was great when we went out that summer. Where’d we sail to, Liz?’

She can’t bring herself to answer, remembering that golden weekend with such painful clarity she can’t breathe, and Nick says, ‘probably the Thimble Islands.’

‘Yeah, that’s it. Have you sailed up there yet, Caroline?’

Her daughter burrows back against her, clutching her waist. She doesn’t want to encourage him but silence stretches between them until she finally says, ‘We went this summer.’

At her response she sees some of the tension leave his shoulders as he relaxes. ‘That sounds great. Did you enjoy that?’

Caroline shrugs and states, ‘I’m tired.’ Her words are muffled against her shoulder.

‘We’ll go then, darling, and we’ll see you later for lunch, okay?’ Isobel says, standing up. Nick gathers together the remains of their breakfast and Mike stands up abruptly. ‘Is Ben coming for lunch or dinner?’ her mother asks.

‘Lunch,’ she replies. ‘He’s bringing sandwiches.’

‘Great. We’ll see you at noon, then,’ she says, kissing her on the cheek before kissing Caroline too. She pulls back enough to return her grandmother’s embrace and to kiss her grandfather’s cheek. Her parents leave the room, shooting glances back at Mike, but he remains hovering at the foot of the bed, watching them.

‘Maybe I could bring a movie by to watch tonight?’ he offers finally. ‘And dinner?’

Caroline shrugs, closing her eyes. 

‘Liz? What do you think?’ he presses. ‘Six o’clock?’

She looks down at her daughter, stroking her hair, and feels Caroline shrug again. ‘What do you think, baby?’ she whispers.

‘I don’t care,’ she says, but she does, she cares so much that her entire body aches with it.

‘Six is fine,’ she says at last, and Mike grins.

‘Great. See you then.’ He walks over to Caroline’s side and bends down to kiss her forehead but she recoils so violently from his touch that he’s startled. He meets her eyes and she tries to look away from his heartbreak.

‘We’ll see you later,’ she says, dismissing him, and he nods at last, leaving them alone.

‘Do you want to take a nap?’ she offers quietly.

‘No. Can we just read?’

‘Sure. Darling, if you don’t want Mike to come tonight, that’s fine--I’ll call him and tell him you’re not feeling well.’

‘I want to see him,’ she says at last. ‘But I don’t want to see his girlfriend.’

‘Okay. I’ll make sure she doesn’t come.’

‘Good. Can we read more of my book now, please?’

‘Of course,’ she agrees, relieved that the crisis has passed. ‘Where were we?’

‘Chapter Five,’ she says.

‘So we were.’


	9. Chapter 9

They are halfway through the book when Ben arrives for lunch, carrying lunch.

‘Hi, sweetheart--how are you feeling?’

‘I’m okay,’ she says. ‘Mommy and I have been reading.’

He smiles and steps up to the bed, bending to kiss Caroline’s cheek, then her own.

‘That sounds like a lot of fun.’

‘Yes. Mommy is a good reader,’ she says, and he agrees.

‘I’ll set up for lunch--what time are your parents getting here?’

‘We’re here!’ Isobel says, coming into the room. ‘How are you feeling, Caroline--did you have a nice nap?’

‘Yes, I’m feeling a lot better,’ she replies.

‘I hope you’re hungry--you haven’t eaten at all, Caroline, you’ll waste away!’ Nick says, helping Ben set up lunch.

‘I am, a bit.’

‘Good, darling.’

‘Do you want chicken salad, ham, or roast beef, Caroline?’ Ben asks.

‘Mm, chicken salad, please,’ she replies, and he smiles.

‘I thought so--I went to Ess-a-Bagel specially.’

Caroline’s smile is shy--she is clearly touched that he went to such an effort, especially as it’s out of his way.

‘Thank you, Daddy.’

They arrange their chairs in a semicircle around the bed, holding their plates on their lap. Conversation centers around her parents’ recent trip to Paris, and Caroline eats half of her sandwich before leaning back against the bed, content to watch and listen. Ben is easy and relaxed with her parents, who are indeed more of his generation than she is. Their conversation is interrupted by the nurse--Zach again.

‘Sorry for interrupting,’ he smiles. ‘Since it’s been two days since Caroline’s surgery, we’re going to switch you from IV antibiotics to pills--how does that sound?’

‘Good,’ Caroline says, and holds up her arm so he can carefully detach the IV.

‘We’ll come by in a few hours to give you your next dose, okay? Let us know if you need anything.’

‘Thank you, Zach,’ she replies, smiling as he leaves and Caroline sighs in happiness.

‘It feels so much better!’ she says joyfully, moving her arm about. Her parents and Ben laugh at her delight and she kisses her forehead, relieved her mood seems to be improving.

Her parents excuse themselves early to give them time alone, promising to be there tomorrow with breakfast.

‘I have to go soon, unfortunately, but I’ll be here tomorrow for lunch again. I could bring sushi from your favorite place.’

‘Thank you, Daddy,’ she says, and they are both surprised at how solicitous he is today. He hates sushi and she knows that well; it is a surprising turn of events that he’s willing to bring her her favorite food.

‘Of course. I’ll see you both tomorrow.’ He kisses them both and tells Caroline that he loves her--another rare occurrence--and she gapes after him when he leaves.

‘Daddy is in a good mood,’ she says at last.

‘Mm, yes. Well, he’s happy that you’re feeling better.’

She nods though they both know that’s not the reason. Something else is going on.

‘I thought that maybe I’d take a nap before later, Mommy, if you wanted to go pick up things from your office.’

‘You know, I’m fine, but you take a nap--I should make some phone calls.’

‘Okay,’ she agrees, and closes her eyes.

When she is asleep she dials Shelly’s number. After working through the hierarchy of secretary, assistant, and associate, she finally reaches Shelly.

‘How’s Caroline feeling?’ she asks, barely waiting for a response before saying, ‘I’ve pushed back the depositions, much to Ms. West’s annoyance. I pointed out that I could hardly tear you away from your daughter’s bedside and that she has no expectation for a quick discovery process after blindsiding us with a nuisance lawsuit.’

‘What did she say?’ The terror of this lawsuit seems like it happened years ago and she can barely recall it, the events of the past forty-eight hours pushing everything else from her mind.

‘She huffed in that very sleek blonde way she has but agreed to discuss a time when your daughter has recovered--so, essentially, take your time. We’ll try to force a settlement with delays.’

‘Great, thank you,’ she says, sighing in relief.

‘Sure. Give me a call when Caroline’s feeling better, okay? I’ll work on getting her to drop the suit.’

‘Thanks, Shelly.’

‘Sure. I’ve got to go, I’m prepping for another deposition. Talk soon.’

She ends the call and scrolls through her emails, responding to a few patients and to some colleagues. It’s astonishing how much her work has dropped off in the past month, since her admission on the stand that she slept with a patient… she hasn’t heard from the District Attorney’s office or any of the police precincts since then and doubts that she will, not for a while. Things needed to die down first.

Well, she doesn’t desperately need the money, though things have been tighter than usual since their separation--despite her trust fund, the cost of maintaining two separate establishments in Manhattan was expensive, and now that Ben had stopped writing novels the main source of his now not-very-substantial income came from royalties and three days a week consulting at One Police Plaza. He still owned his Paris flat, which required extremely extensive repairs last year, and he sent his daughter Julie an allowance to help with her sons’ tuition at their expensive private school. His contribution to Caroline’s expenses, including the equally expensive tuition at Chapin, was negligible. Her own income from consulting for the D.A.’s office and various precincts had been small but important, and unless she took on additional patients or things turned around in the next few months, she would be forced to ask her parents or godfather for their support in paying Caroline’s school fees, let alone these hospital bills and Shelly’s retainer. She could potentially go back to teaching but that would limit her time with her daughter so severely, and despite the reason for her lightened schedule she embraces being able to pick her up from school every day. Hopefully everything will be all right… 

 

When Caroline wakes up they watch television for a while before turning back to her book. As she turns the page to begin, Caroline asks, ‘Why is Mike dating someone else? Why did we stop seeing him after that day at the boat pond?’

She looks up from their book and closes it, turning towards her to address her question as fully and honestly as she can.

It’s difficult to begin and she rejects several possible openings when she says at last, ‘I overheard that conversation you just told me about… I saw how much it hurt you, and I didn’t want you to be hurt. So I thought that maybe we should take a beat to see what happens next. But then… then, he was seeing someone else.’

‘Do you still love him?’

‘That doesn’t matter--I love you more than anyone. I want you to know that, baby--I will never, ever stop loving you.’

‘You don’t regret having me?’ she asks, her voice almost a whisper, lower lip trembling.

‘Never,’ she says firmly and immediately. ‘By the time your father and I married I had almost resigned myself to not having children, even though I wanted a family. We were both older and you were the best surprise of my life. I have never, _never_ for a moment regretted anything at all about you. I have never stopped being grateful for you and I never will. You are the best thing to ever happen to me--my miracle--and I love you so much.’

She nods, squeezing her tight.

‘I know that Daddy isn’t as fun as you’d like, but he does love you.’

‘I guess I have the uncles for the fun bit.’

She laughs a little at that. ‘They love you too, so much, you know. You and I--we’re so lucky to have such a good family. So many people don’t, you know, and it’s so sad… but we have each other, and our entire family. Just think, darling--how lucky we are to have everyone come together for every holiday! Thanksgiving alone… how many people have eight cousins who are closer than siblings, four uncles and four aunts who love you like you were their own daughter, my parents who would do anything for you, Peter and Miranda…’ 

‘I know,’ she says quietly. ‘But what about Daddy? It’s so confusing… is he coming for Thanksgiving this year or will he go see Julie and the boys again? He’s never here for holidays, even when he still lived with us.’

She sighs. ‘I think he’s going to San Francisco. Do you… do you want to go with him? We could go together…’

‘No!’ she exclaims. ‘No. I want to be with _our_ family.’

‘Then that’s what we’ll do.’

‘Good.’

She falls quiet again, then asks, ‘When will you and Daddy get a divorce? Or are you going to get back together?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she admits.

‘About the divorce or when?’

‘Both.’

Caroline sighs, sounding far older than her eight years. ‘It’s so confusing, not knowing. And if you are going to get a divorce… I think it might be better than this.’

‘I know. I promise, when you’re out of the hospital, Daddy and I will talk.’

‘Thank you, Mommy.’

‘I promise you, darling girl, that no matter what happens we’re going to be fine. It’s you and me, sweetheart, and we can get through anything.’

Her daughter’s face, looking up into hers, is solemn and so trusting. ‘I know we can,’ Caroline says, and she smiles in relief and love and pain. ‘I love you, Mommy.’

‘I love you.’

The nurse comes in, interrupting their quiet moment, and when Caroline’s taken her new antibiotics she turns to her with a smile.

‘Can we take a break from _Swallows & Amazons_, please, and read _Harry Potter_?’

‘Of course, my darling. Anything you want.’

 

Caroline is giggling joyfully at a silly part in the book when a knock comes at the door and Mike opens it. Immediately her laughter stops and her smile fades; she stares at him as he steps inside and grins at her.

‘It’s really great to hear you laughing, honey,’ he says, too busy setting his bags down to notice that she’s stopped. ‘I brought you dinner from Melon’s, and I also persuaded them to make you a Shirley Temple. How does that sound?’

‘Okay,’ she ventures, and he turns to look at her, his grin wavering.

‘I also brought a couple of movies for you to pick from… _Harry Potter_ , ’cause you said you were readin’ the books, and _Narnia_ , and _The Incredibles_.’

‘Okay. Thank you,’ she replies, her answer brief. As Mike organizes dinner they climb out of bed, Caroline wincing a bit as her bare feet come into contact with the chilly hospital floor. She finds her slippers then shuffles over to the table, where Mike has set up their dinner. She plops down in her seat and hunches her shoulders, staring at her bacon cheeseburger. They take their seats too, beginning to eat, Mike trying to draw Caroline out. As they finish their meal he sighs at last, looking at her.

‘So what’s got you in a mood, then, Caroline?’ he ventures. ‘I know the hospital isn’t fun but you were laughin’ earlier…’

She shrugs and all she can think is that it’s a good thing she wants to go to boarding school when she’s old enough because her teenaged years already seem like they will be difficult indeed.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No.’

‘Well, I was hopin’ that the three of us could have a fun evening…’

‘Why?’

He’s flummoxed. ‘Why?’

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Well, because…’ he clearly doesn’t know what to say and stares at his daughter.

She should stop her, she knows she should, but Caroline is hurting so desperately and she wants her to feel better. She can do this much for her, at least--let her have her say.

Caroline’s voice is bitter. ‘It’s not like you’re dating Mommy. You have a girlfriend. You should be with her.’

‘That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends,’ he protests at last. ‘Honey--’

‘Yes it does.’

‘No it doesn’t!’ he exclaims, then softens his voice to say, ‘Why would you think that?’

She shrugs again, angrily, and mutters, ‘you didn’t want us. So why are you pretending you do now?’

He’s never seen her angry or sullen like this before--Caroline’s always been on her best behavior around him--and she realizes that this is one of the reasons why she was so scared to begin a relationship with him again. She was afraid that if he saw everything--the nitty-gritty of parenthood, the temper tantrums, the stubbornness--he would walk out as he has during so many difficult points in their relationship. He had enough of the negative and difficult aspects of family life growing up that she was, is, terrified at his reaction--but this has to play out.

‘Liz--aren’t you gonna say anything?’ he asks desperately, confusion warring with sadness as he’s confronted with Caroline’s unprecedented emotion.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ she tells him, and he stands up, running a hand through his hair.

‘Jesus--this isn’t fair. I just wanted a quiet night with the two of you, not an ambush.’

Angered at his response, she snaps, ‘It’s not an _ambush_. Caroline has something to say.’

He sighs angrily and turns back to Caroline, trying to keep it together. ‘Why would you think… that?’ he asks, stumbling. ‘Honey, you can’t believe that.’

‘You’re dating someone else. You said you didn’t want children and that means me.’

‘Oh, Caroline--’ he says, stretching out his arms to her. She shies away. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ He looks up to meet her eyes, desperation there. ‘C’mon, honey, I didn’t mean it.’

‘You did. You did,’ she says, starting to cry, and she can see his desperation mount, the set of his shoulders and his compressed lips signalling the approaching loss of his temper. ‘It’s not fair. If you didn’t mean it then why aren’t you still with Mommy? Why are you going to have kids with your new girlfriend? It’s not fair.’

He’s getting frustrated now and she wants to stop this conversation but it’s already spiraled out of her control. He says, tense and angry, ‘I don’t know what you want me to do, okay, Caroline--what do you want me to do?’

‘I don’t know. It’s just not fair,’ she weeps. ‘I thought we could be a family. I thought you’d marry Mommy…’ Caroline turns blindly towards her and sobs against her shoulder.

He looks up at her, defeated and upset, and she closes her eyes as she holds her daughter close.

‘I wanted to,’ he says at last, and they both look at him, equally startled. ‘I guess it just wasn’t enough.’ He walks over to her, kneeling next to them, looking into their daughter’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry, Caroline.’

They watch as he looks at both of them, his eyes guarded, then stands up and walks out of the room. Even though she expected him to walk out, it hurts so much more than she thought it would. She wants to scream, she wants to cry… she can’t do either of those things. She’s frozen, eyes fixed on the door.

‘This isn’t fair,’ Caroline whispers at last, twisting around to look up at her. ‘Mommy…’

‘I know. I know, baby, I know…’

‘He shouldn’t leave! That’s not what he’s supposed to do.’

She swallows back tears. She needs to be strong… ‘Remember what we were talking about earlier? About families? Well, Mike didn’t have a good childhood. He had a difficult family and sometimes it’s easier for him to leave instead of talking.’

‘But he’s a grown-up.’

‘Even grown-ups don’t know what to do sometimes. It’s hard, sweetheart. I’m so sorry that you have to go through this.’

She asks tentatively, ‘Is he… is he coming back?’

‘I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, really--we can’t sit here and wait for him for the rest of our lives and we won’t. We can’t just wait for life to happen to us. We have to go on.’

‘So that’s it, isn’t it? It’s just you and me?’ she asks, still sniffling.

She looks into her daughter’s solemn grey eyes. ‘Yes. Just you and me.’

‘Okay.’


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This begins Part 2 of the story, taking place in April 2008, around the time of the _Law & Order: Criminal Intent_ episode "Last Rites."

April 2008

He looks across the table at her, sitting so coolly and calmly, hands folded neatly on the table in front of her. She’s next to Shelly Kates and avoiding his gaze. He doesn’t blame her. It’s been six months since he walked out on her and Caroline in her hospital room… his heart aches from guilt still. He hasn’t seen her since then though he heard she got a divorce and obviously knew that Stone quit working at Major Case and moved back to Paris in December. She’s no longer wearing her rings and he closes his eyes, trying to blot out her image.

Carolyn doesn’t understand why he’s doing this, getting deposed on Liz’s behalf. He doesn’t quite understand either, besides the fact that he owes her, and he does.

It hurt to know that he failed them. When Caroline was crying… oh, God, that struck him through the heart. He didn’t think anything in his life could hurt as much as losing Liz but this… Jesus. The sheer agony and desperation he felt as their daughter sobbed helplessly, clearly bereft… he didn’t know she wanted him in her life that much. He didn’t know that she’d be that hurt that he brought Carolyn, who insisted on coming. He didn’t know what he could do. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore so he left, figuring that would be the best way… but he knew it wasn’t, he knew it was a cop-out. He went home to Carolyn that night and made love to her, reassuring her that he loved her, all the while trying to shove his daughter’s confused and heartbroken face out of his mind.

Well, he does love Carolyn, but… she’s not the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. He doesn’t want to have kids with her, though she’s openly stated she wants them. He’s already fucked that up so much… he comforted himself for years with the thought that at least Caroline was loved so much by her mother it would make up for him not being there… he didn’t factor in Stone’s indifference, or the fact that he’d form a close relationship with his daughter a few years later and be a part of her life. He didn’t realize that his words could hurt her or that she saw him as anything but a friend of the family, a colleague of her parents’. Well, he fucked it up this time and he’s never gonna get them back now.

He can’t believe this is happening to them. Sherri West is sitting between them; he knows that her presence hurts Liz the most, the reminder that, save for his own stupid actions so many years ago, they’d still be together. Sherri gave him a slow, knowing smile when they met again, extending her hand. He ignored it, giving her a curt nod instead before sinking down into his seat. He answers her questions tersely, giving as little information as possible. Sherri is obviously frustrated, trying to get a rise out of him, but for once he keeps his temper.

The deposition finishes and Shelly drawls, ‘So. Any judge would dismiss this on the face of it, Sherri--it’s a disgusting fishing expedition served only to dredge up gossip about two valuable public servants. We’ll offer $150,000, and that’s generous.’

Sherri turns to her client and whispers in her ear. He glances at Liz; her hands are clenched now, her jaw set, as she waits.

‘We’ll take $500,000,’ Sherri says at last, pulling back, and Shelly raises an eyebrow.

‘$300,000--not a penny more.’

Ms. Donovan nods and Liz sighs silently in relief, her shoulders sagging. Shelly slides a sheaf of paper across the table to her, and they watch as she reads through it, then hands it to Ms. Donovan to sign.

‘That’s that,’ Shelly says, taking the paper back and standing up. ‘Glad we could sort that out. Have a good day.’

Sherri raises an eyebrow at Shelly’s abrupt dismissal, but gathers together her things. ‘We’ll expect a check next week.’

‘Of course.’

As the door closes behind them he looks at Liz again.

‘Thanks for your testimony, Mike--that went very well.’

Liz nods, eyes fixed on Shelly. ‘So--that’s it?’

‘That’s it. Your insurance company has already agreed to pay out, and we’ll send them a check next week. It’s over, Liz.’

‘Thank you, Shelly,’ she sighs, deeply relieved. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘Of course. I would say any time but I prefer you on my side of table and not as a defendant if you don’t mind,’ she laughs, gathering together her things. She shakes Liz’s hand, then turns to him.

‘Thank you too, Mike--let me know if you ever need a lawyer.’

He forces a laugh. ‘Hopefully I won’t be in need of your services, but if I do, I’ll give you a call.’

‘You do that.’ She breezes out of the room, leaving them alone together.

‘Liz--’ he says quickly, wanting to talk to her.

She ignores him, gathering her things together.

‘Liz, I want to talk to you.’

She lifts her head and looks at him, her eyes filled with such pain it nearly knocks him flat. She looks away from him again and moves towards the door. He doesn’t know what to do… floored, frozen, he watches her walk away.

 

He doesn’t call Carolyn when he gets back to his apartment. He knows she’s waiting for him at her place but honestly he needs a break. He doesn’t want to listen to her rants about Liz again… he knows she’s jealous of her, sensing that what he felt for Liz--what he feels for her still--far surpasses anything he can summon up for her. It’s not her fault… it’s just that he gave his heart away to someone else a long time ago.

He takes a shower, interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He turns off the water and wraps a towel around his waist, picking up the phone.

‘Hello?’

Carolyn’s voice is warm on the other end. ‘Hey, hon,’ she greets him. ‘How was it?’

‘Yeah, fine,’ he says. ‘She settled, so it’s over.’

‘Good. I’m glad you’re done with that--I can’t believe she had the nerve to ask you to testify on her behalf.’

He stiffens, his fist clenching the phone. ‘It wasn’t a court case. I was _deposed_ \--even if I didn’t want to help her out I would’ve had to. I was subpoenaed.’

He can practically hear her thinking, measuring her responses. ‘Well, it’s over now. Why don’t we go out to dinner tonight?’

He shrugs, then realizes she can’t see him. ‘I’m gonna stay in, I think. I’m wiped.’

‘Mike,’ she says gently. He can hear her set down her wine. ‘What’s wrong?’

He lets out an explosive sigh, running his hand over his eyes in an attempt to block out the world.

‘Look, I’m exhausted, Caro. It’s been a really difficult few weeks and I just want some time to myself.’

‘Why don’t I come over? I bet I can make you forget about this week…’ she offers, trailing off seductively.

‘I’ll give you a call later. I’m just gonna crash.’

‘Okay,’ she agrees reluctantly, and he hangs up the phone, frustrated. He goes back into the bathroom and finishes his shower, then gets dressed. He doesn’t have any food in the fridge; he spends most of his time at Carolyn’s now, especially after Holly’s death… he doesn’t like being here any more. He misses his old place, such a quick walk to Liz’s apartment, misses being with her… he swallows, then goes to the fridge. There isn’t any beer, but at least there’s a half-empty bottle of scotch on the counter. He pours himself a hefty slug, then walks through to his bedroom, digging out a shoebox hidden on the top shelf. Going back to his living room, he flops down on the couch, takes a swig of whiskey, and opens the lid.

He shouldn’t be doing this, he knows it, but he can’t resist. He pulls out the thin sheaf of letters she’s written to him over the past eighteen years, the stack of photographs, the paternity test she had done to ensure he had a legal claim to Caroline should anything happen to her. He turns to the letters first.

_Darling, Happy Birthday! I can’t wait to celebrate properly with you--and can’t wait to travel with you to Ireland this summer. Are you surprised? I know it’s been such a difficult year but you have been so supportive… I couldn’t have gone through this without you…_

_Merry Christmas, my love! I wish we were together but I cannot wait for you to come up tomorrow… get here soon, there may or may not be some mistletoe above my bed…_

_I can’t believe you left._ This one hurts the most, scribbled accusingly on a yellowing, tearstained sheet of paper torn from a notebook, stuffed into an envelope and mailed the night he punched that politician thirteen years ago. There are more letters but he pushes them aside and picks up the photographs.

God, these pictures--Liz grinning at him, perched on the porch railing at her godparents’ beach house, the ocean in the background. The two of them, her face pressed close to his, Liz giggling as he tried awkwardly to snap the photograph. One of his favorites--at the beach, her in a bikini at the water’s edge, laughing brilliantly as she kicks water at him. In County Clare at the Cliffs of Moher, her hair blowing in the wind as she wraps her arms around his waist, beaming up at him. Liz in bed, hair spread back against the pillow, her expression warm and loving, lips parted… and then photographs of his daughter, tons of them until she turned five, photographs of every possible moment of her life… and that’s it. He doesn’t have any pictures of her now, any pictures since then, and his memories of her are now colored by her disappointment in him, her deep sadness. It’s a punch in the gut still… but it’s over, irrevocably over.

So. That’s it. What is he gonna do next? Is he gonna set aside any hope of being with Liz at last and commit fully to Carolyn, to being with her and raising a family? Is he gonna forget the fact that he has a beautiful daughter with the love of his life and try to recreate that with someone else? It wouldn’t be successful. He doesn’t want to hurt Carolyn too, like he’s hurt Liz.

He sighs heavily, gathers together the papers and photographs, and stuffs them back into the shoebox. Even if he wasn’t still in love with Liz he’d still want to be able to be his daughter’s father… the father she deserves. He said it years ago--Stone was cold, he was never gonna love Caroline, and Liz was damn foolish to think otherwise. Her protestations that he was excited about the baby rang false to him but he--he wanted her, and their child, so badly. They only had that one brief afternoon together before Caroline was born. He rested his hands on the swell of her stomach, felt their baby kick, pressing her tiny little foot against his hand. Liz had never been more beautiful. If they were still together and they’d been trying for a baby… he would have been over the moon. Even if it was an accident… if it was under any other circumstances… even that one, if she had only chosen him… He wanted children. He wanted children with her, he told her that years ago… God, it hurt so bad to realize he lost his chance with her, to be a father to his daughter.

He had a shot when she was two, when Stone was out of town for a week visiting his daughter in San Francisco. She called him and invited him to spend the day at the park with the two of them. He agreed with alacrity, meeting them at the apartment. Even though he’d seen Caroline the month before he was astonished at how much she’d grown in just four weeks. She was so beautiful, this sunny and happy little girl… both of them were happy to see him, Caroline especially. Liz had packed a picnic for the park and they went down to the Great Lawn. She spread out the blanket and they sprawled there as Caroline ran around, laughing. When she finally collapsed on the blanket, exhausted and hungry, they had a relaxing lunch and Caroline fell asleep in his lap. He was astonished at how it felt to cradle his sleeping daughter, the overwhelming rush of love. She was so little and delicate, her breathing even, her eyes closed as she slept soundly. He rested a hand on her hair, tucking a lock behind her ear, and he looked up at Liz. She was watching them and he gave her a small smile, encouraged when she smiled back.

‘Let’s go home,’ she said, and he looked at her in astonishment. She smiled again and he smiled back at her, gathering their sleeping daughter in his arms as she packed up their picnic. Caroline continued to sleep in his arms, one arm around his neck, sucking her thumb. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her particular scent, and Liz looked over at him again. He recognized her expression, knew that she realized how important this moment was to him. She looked away again, pushing the stroller as she led the way out of the park.

When they got home she took Caroline from his arms and brought her to the bedroom, crooning softly as she stirred. He immediately felt bereft at the loss of her, heart aching, and waited for Liz in the living room, pacing, looking at the new pictures that appeared in the intervening years. When she joined him a few minutes later he took a chance and kissed her. She kissed him back and they went to bed together… He buries his head in his hands.

He still doesn’t know what he did wrong during those four days, what happened between waking up with her that last morning and coming back to her that evening to make her change her mind. When he got back she was cold and distant, telling him that this week was over, that her husband would return the next day and he couldn’t be there. Remembering what she told him when she got engaged, he tried to protest, tried to fight, but she was implacable and Caroline had come down with a cold and was crying for her mother… he left and for a while they stopped talking. He didn’t know how he could forgive her for her decision, but now, looking back… he hadn’t fought hard enough. He hadn’t promised to love and cherish them. He’d just left as he had so many times before.

How can he promise Carolyn a different ending? He loves her but he was in love with Liz and look how that turned out… he couldn’t even fight for his daughter, the child he purported to love so much. In the six months since she was in the hospital he realized he barely knew her at all. He knew she liked to play tennis and sail and loved her mother but he didn’t know if she was afraid of the dark or if she didn’t like broccoli or what upsets her. He didn’t know what books she liked to read or if she prefered cereal or pancakes for breakfast. Her last memory of him is gonna be him walking out.

If he hadn’t fucked it up all those years ago, or all the other chances Liz gave him, he’d know all these things about her. They would’ve been a family. They might even have other children… and he could’ve been there for the child they did have.

Wouldn’t it be better to start over, though? He’s made all these mistakes now and won’t do it again. Besides, it’s clear that Liz is never gonna let him back in her life. He broke her heart again, broke Caroline’s heart, and as much as she’s forgiven him over the years it’ll be a miracle if she does now. But if he wants to start over, if he decided to commit to Carolyn, he’s gonna have to tell her all of this. He can’t do that. Not now, not yet… maybe not ever.

He sighs again, loudly. Jesus. These past six months have been so fucking difficult, and dealing with Terri Driver giving him and Wheeler hell certainly didn’t help. Father Shea… why’d he have to show up? Why did he have to be friends with Lennie? He felt obligated to listen to him, to investigate… and now they’ve found that Randy Nichols is innocent and Driver’s coming after them. Well, he’s not worried about himself so much as he is about Wheeler. She has her whole life ahead of her and what does he have? Nothing, nothing but his job, and thanks to Driver’s vendetta he barely has that. After they confronted her yesterday she threatened to take away his badge if he continued. He didn’t do anything wrong--she’s the one who had a witness lie on the stand, she put a hit out on the priest!--and after telling her that she replied coolly, ‘you’re not too bright, are you, Logan? I gave you fair warning.’

He knows what he has to do. She can’t get away with it… this devalues everything they do, protecting people… Liz understands, even if Carolyn won’t. She’s done this too. He finishes his scotch, finds a number scribbled in his notebook, and calls a reporter friend at the _New York Ledger_.


	11. Chapter 11

Two days later he’s at his desk when Ross walks past their desk, barking, ‘Logan, Wheeler, a word.’ His heart sinks--did Liz ever feel like this when she was charging in in an attempt to save someone? He feels like he’s gonna be sick, that he’s gonna lose everything… the job is all he has left but surely it doesn’t mean anything if he can’t protect the city against corruption, if he ignores the fact that an innocent man is in jail… 

‘What’s going on?’ Wheeler asks him, and he shrugs, squaring his shoulders and following her into the office.

‘Tomorrow’s news tonight,’ Ross states, throwing the copy of the _Ledger_ down on his desk. ‘It’s all in there--the Audi, the hooker, the one-eyed witness…’ 

‘Captain, neither of us talked to a reporter,’ Wheeler says calmly, and he loves her for it, so grateful for that loyalty they finally achieved even if he’s about to betray it. He can feel Ross’s gaze on him and he looks down, hands stuffed in his pockets.

‘Right,’ the Captain says, picking up the paper. He catches Wheeler’s glance at him out of the corner of his eye as he tries to keep calm. As Ross starts to read he looks up at her, catching her look of disappointment. ‘The brass are afraid to go after Driver because she’s making a run for AG, according to a veteran Homicide detective.’

He meets his Captain’s gaze. ‘War is hell,’ he states.

‘Do you know how vindictive she is?’

‘I know she put a hit out on a priest,’ he says. ‘And we all looked the other way.’

Wheeler is still looking at him, betrayal in her eyes, and for a moment he doubts his decision. It’s gonna affect her too, isn’t it? He didn’t think about that…

‘Are you trying to get yourself fired?’ Ross asks, desperation evident in his tone, clearly confused and anxious.

‘Are you saying she’s comin’ after me?’ he asks, sure of himself once again. He can take her. Let her try. He’s already lost everything he cares about. ‘Good. I want her to.’

Ross stares at him with something approaching horror, and he nods once, meeting his gaze, and leaves the office.

 

He’s left alone for the rest of the day, and the next morning, after Wheeler left to drop her fiance off at JFK, Ross calls him into his office. Driver’s on the screen, admitting that she’ll reopen the case and has released Nichols.

‘This isn’t the end of it,’ Ross says as he flips off the TV. ‘The Commissioner’s calling--about you.’

He raises his eyebrows, feigning amused surprise. ‘Am I gonna get an award? Or maybe a raise.’

‘Don’t joke Mike, she’s going for your throat.’

‘What, over this? She won! So what?’

He sighs and looks away. ‘Where’s your partner?’

‘Driving James Bond to JFK.’

He nods. ‘Tell me when she gets back.’

‘Yeah, okay. Mind if I take the afternoon?’

He fixes him with a laser stare. ‘What are you going to do?’

He shrugs. ‘Talk to my priest.’

‘Don’t go near Driver,’ he warns, and he nods.

‘Don’t worry--I don’t have a death wish.’

‘Make sure you don’t.’ The Captain nods and dismisses him, and he leaves the office, grabbing his keys from the desk. He drives to the hospital in a trance, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He needs advice; Liz isn’t speaking to him and who the hell else can he talk to besides Father Shea? He can’t talk about this with Carolyn either. He chuckles bitterly at the irony of it, Mike Logan seeking a priest’s counsel after all these years… but he will understand, he is bound by his own vows and service… his cell phone rings. Flipping it open, he peers at the screen--Wheeler.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ She’s crying, swallowing back tears. ‘Wheeler, what is it?’

‘Colin’s been arrested! Money laundering, racketeering, and fraud in the first degree. The FBI surrounded my car at the airport, pulled him out…’ She breaks off in a sob.

‘Jesus, Wheeler--’ he breaks off, unsure what to say.

‘It’s Driver. She must’ve found something out, told the Feds… oh, God.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘I’m heading back to One PP--maybe the Captain knows what’s going on. Where are you?’

‘Out.’

He can hear the worry in your voice. ‘You’re not going to do something… you’re not going to see Driver, are you?’

‘No. No, I’m not. Don’t worry, Wheeler,’ he reassures her. ‘I’ll see you soon, okay? Let me know if I can do anything.’

‘Thanks,’ she says, and hangs up the phone.

He flips the phone closed, anger bubbling up. This fucking case… if only Father Shea had told him from the beginning who confessed to him… Wheeler’s life wouldn’t be a wreck, he wouldn’t have put the only thing he had left on the line, they could’ve got Driver… he pulls up to the hospital and parks the car.

He finds him praying in the hospital chapel and takes a seat in the last pew, fighting back his discomfort at being in a church, however unchurchlike this room is.

‘Randy Nichols. The man doing time for your killer, Marty Swenders, was released today.’

Father Shea sighs in relief. ‘Thank God!’

‘Let’s not give him the credit, Father.’

‘He brought me to you, and you got him out.’

‘You came to me the day that Swenders died. I want to know--was that a deathbed confession or were you just sittin’ on that?’

‘I did everything I could within my vows.’

He stands up, too jittery to remain seated, and walks up to the altar. ‘You oughta think about that, Father, because it sounds like an excuse.’

‘I have thought about it,’ Father Shea replies calmly. ‘Every day since. But I took an oath, just like you.’

‘Vows, oaths, prayers--they’re just a cover,’ he jeers. ‘None of those helped Nichols. He just finally got lucky--if you can call it that after sixteen years.’

Father Shea stands and faces him, the bandage on his throat a visible reminder of what he went through because of his vows. ‘If that’s what you really think, I feel sorry for you. I guess I can’t give you anything else.’ He turns away.

His anger, suppressed all day, starts breaking through his control. ‘You can give me something. I want an apology.’

‘An apology?’

‘That’s right. If it wasn’t for your vows, and your oaths and your protocol, my partner’s life wouldn’t be in a shambles. I wouldn’t be hanging on to my job by a thread.’

He looks back at him, calm. ‘And I wouldn’t be _here_. I did everything I possibly could.’

‘That’s not good enough!’ he yells, then lowers his hand. Why is he angry with the priest? This is disproportionate… it’s not all his fault.

‘Do you have any family, Mike?’ he asks.

‘No,’ he responds quickly, forcing back that last image he has of Caroline and Liz looking at him, bereft.

‘Have you ever asked yourself why not?’

‘No,’ he snaps, anger building up again.

‘I see.’ Father Shea turns away. 

‘Wait a minute--you work in a prison. You know what my world is.’ The priest nods. ‘Do you? Because I’m up to my neck in it every single day.’

‘Mike--you sound angry.’

 _No shit, Sherlock._ ‘So what--who isn’t?’

‘I’m not. Maybe it’s because I’m connected to something.’

Liz said something to that effect two years ago when he shot that cop. _A support system… everybody needs one._ He’s lost his for good this time. His voice is resentful as he says, ‘Well, you’re a very lucky man.’

‘You know, I’ve been doing this for a long time. So for what it’s worth, Mike, my advice to you is to get out. You’ve done your duty. You’ve served. You’ve protected. There’s another world out there.’

‘Is there?’

‘You just haven’t been able to see it.’

He looks away, rubbing his temples. Another world… yeah, there is another world out there, the world that has Liz and Caroline and a life… a happy life, one where he can come home to them and know that they love him… he had that life once. What would it be like to walk up every morning and know he doesn’t have to deal with the lowest forms of humanity? How would it feel to know that his days could be overwhelmingly positive instead of trying and failing to find one shred of decency from the mountains of garbage this city has? How would it feel to know that he could wake up in the morning and not have to worry about being threatened, not worry about having a gun pulled on him, not have to arrest someone? Doesn’t he deserve that after all these years?

‘Thank you for that thought,’ he says, turning back. ‘I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, I just… I guess I’m not good at doin’ what people think I should be doin’, even when it’s a priest telling me.’

‘I already pieced that together,’ he says.

He nods, then walks to the door.

‘Take care of yourself, Detective, and may God watch over you,’ he calls.

He turns around as he opens the door, smiling wryly. ‘That ought to keep Him busy.’

He can sense Father Shea’s smile as he walks back out through the hospital corridor, hands stuffed into his pockets, his mind replaying his words.

_My advice to you is to get out._

Get out… he could do it. He’s almost fifty years old, been on the force thirty years, twenty-five as a detective… he could do it. He could turn in his badge and retire with a full pension. He could stop fighting; he could try to live his life. He could try to win them back… and this time he’d give it everything he had.

By the time he reaches his car he’s made up his mind. He pulls out of his spot and gets on the FDR to drive up to her apartment. She’ll be home, he hopes--he doesn’t know if her office is still in the same place, and he’ll wait for her at her building. He can’t find a spot on her block so he parks a few blocks away, then walks up to her building. To his enormous relief, the doorman on duty is his old friend Tony.

‘Detective Logan!’ he exclaims, extending his hand and shaking it vigorously. ‘How are you?’

He forces a grin. ‘I’m good, Tony, how are you?’

‘You know, just fine. My twins are graduating from college this year--I can’t believe it! We’re so proud of them.’

This time his smile is more genuine. ‘That’s great--congratulations.’

‘Yeah, it’ll be nice to get them out of the house,’ he laughs. ‘So, can I help you?’

He takes a deep breath--this is it. ‘Yeah, I wanted to see Liz--is she back from work yet?’

‘Actually, Dr. Olivet and Miss Caroline left yesterday for the week--it’s Miss Caroline’s spring break.’

Shit. He didn’t even consider they might not be here… ‘Where’d they go?’

‘Connecticut, to Dr. Olivet’s parents’. Is it important? Would you like to leave a message?’

‘Um, no, thanks Tony--I’ll give Liz a call.’

‘Sure thing. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.’

‘Thanks--you’ve been really helpful.’ He bids him goodbye and walks back down the block to his car. Damn it. He knows she won’t pick up her phone, not if she sees it’s him--what’s he gonna do? He can’t wait a week for them to come back; he needs to talk to them now. He looks down at his watch--it’s only one thirty, this afternoon has seemed so much longer than it actually is… he makes a decision. It’s only an hour’s drive to her parents’ place; he did it a lot when they were together, practically once a month… he needs to see her and needs to see her now.

His phone rings half a dozen times during the hour-long drive--the first one from Wheeler, then the Captain, then the next four from Carolyn. He ignores all of them, fixed on his goal--he’s gonna have to talk to her next but not now. No matter what Liz says, he’s gonna talk to Carolyn… 

By the time he reaches Darien he’s surprised he hasn’t died from an episode of hypertension. His heart is pounding; his palms are sweaty; he has never been more nervous in his life. He’s ambushing her but it’s the only way she’s ever gonna listen, and he needs her to listen. This drive is an exercise in deja vu--by the time he turns off onto the road to Contentment Island he has what Liz always called “avenue fever”--the burning desire to get to the end of the road, to the house. Normally he suffered from it because he wanted to get her into bed so badly, but this time… it’s been fourteen years since he’s been here and he’s anxious as hell.

All the cars are in the driveway and he parks next to the ancient station wagon Liz drives when she’s here, getting out of the car with trepidation. He leaves his cell phone on his seat, unwilling to deal with the distraction. He can hear faint shouts of laughter from the lawn and he’s drawn to the sound, walking around the side of the house. Even after fourteen years he remembers where to go, down the slate-lined path between the hydrangea bushes to the wide lawn sloping down to the beach and the sea. The family is there--Nick and Isobel on the swing, Caroline and four other children--her cousins?--running about the lawn, and then Liz, sitting on the steps to the porch. She looks so beautiful as she laughs and God, his heart aches at the sight. Maybe he shouldn’t be here… as he moves to step back, to at least do this properly and ring the doorbell, she looks up and the laughter fades from her face. After a brief, frozen moment she stands up, directing a forced smile at her parents as she waves at them, excusing herself. As she starts walking to him she dips her head, hair falling in front of her face to obscure her expression.

‘Not here,’ she says, walking past him. He follows, darting a glance back at the scene on the lawn. No one has noticed them; Nick and Isobel are talking to each other and the children are running around again, playing some involved game of tag. He turns back and follows her as she leads him to the gazebo in the side yard. She takes a seat and looks up at him at last, her voice and expression carefully blank.

‘What do you want, Mike?’ she asks. ‘Why are you here?’

He looks down at the white-painted wood floor of the gazebo, twisting his ring, trying not to pace. ‘I want to apologize. I want to ask you--beg you--to give me another chance. Another chance with you, another chance with Caroline.’

She’s silent and he chances a glance at her, meeting her eyes. Her lips are pressed together tightly and her eyes are wide with shock.

He takes a deep breath and continues, still looking into her eyes even though she’s dropped her gaze. ‘I dunno if you’ve heard about the Terri Driver thing… it was front page in the Ledger this morning. I gave an interview saying what happened… I had to. She knowingly put an innocent man in jail and she only let him out because of the story. But she’s vindictive, Liz. The Commissioner’s already called my Captain… so I went to talk to a priest. The priest who got this whole thing started…’

‘Really?’ she asks, startled, shocked out of her silence. She, of all people, knows how he feels about the Church.

‘Yeah. I needed advice… I’m leaving the Force. I’m gonna turn in my shield tomorrow.’ 

Her jaw drops and she closes her mouth abruptly, shaking her head slightly to dispel her confusion. ‘What?’

‘He told me I should ask myself why I don’t have any family. Why I am so angry… he told me I’d done my duty, that I’d served… that there was another world. So I’ve decided--I’m gonna retire.’

‘When--when did you decide this?’

‘Two hours ago,’ he admits, and she laughs in astonishment.

‘Oh, my God, Mike--’

‘He’s right, Lizzie--I need to go. The thought of life outside the Force… the only thing I pictured was waking up with you in my arms, going into the kitchen to make our daughter breakfast… the only things I wanted… please--just give me another chance. Give me a chance to make it right.’

She sags back in her seat in shock, sighing, ‘Mike--’

He sits next to her on the bench, looking into her eyes. ‘It’s the right decision.’

‘Are you sure? It’s your whole life, Mike… how can you be so sure? You have no doubts at all?’

‘I don’t,’ he says. ‘No doubts. After the initial shock… the knowledge that I could spend my days not worrying that someone would pull a gun on me, not trying to find a shred of decency in the sheer pile of shit that is my job… if I can’t be effective, if I can’t protect people… I can’t do my job. Maybe I can find something else but Liz… my life needs to have you in it, and Caroline in it… I can’t do this without you. I’ve never stopped loving you…’ He stops abruptly, aware that he’s rambling.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Just--please, Lizzie. I want to be with you. Give me a chance. One more chance… I won’t let you down this time.’

She closes her eyes and leans back. ‘How can I believe that?’ she asks, voice very soft and sad.

‘I don’t know,’ he says at last. ‘You’ve just gotta trust me.’

She sighs. ‘Do I need to get my head examined, Mike? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result… but I want to be with you. I’ve always wanted that, and I’ve wanted you to say these words for years. If it was just me… but Caroline, Mike--you broke her heart. You walked away from her and while I’m used to it--she’s not. You hurt her so badly. Even now… it’s been six months but sometimes I’ll look over at her and she’s so still and quiet and sad it breaks my heart.’

His heart sinks. ‘I know I did. I didn’t know she cared, but Jesus, Liz, when she was crying… nothing in my life has ever hurt that much. The only thing that came close was losing you.’

She opens her eyes and her eyes are brimming with tears. ‘I need to think, Mike. I need to talk to our daughter. I can’t make a decision like this without her.’

‘Can we--can we talk to her together?’ he ventures. ‘I want her to know that I’m sorry. I want her to know that I want to be a part of her life, that I love her. Please, Lizzie. Please--give me one more chance.’

At last, and to his enormous relief, she nods. ‘I want to talk to her first, but yes.’

‘Thank you,’ he manages, filled with enormous and profound gratitude. ‘Thank you so much.’

She nods stiffly.

‘Now?’ he asks.

‘No. I’ll talk to her tonight. She’ll need some time to adjust… but later this week, if you come up, we can talk to her together.’

‘Okay. When?’

‘How much time will you need to get things settled? Turning in your shield…’ she looks up at him abruptly, her face suddenly pale. ‘What about Detective Barek? Are you still… with her?’

He flushes. ‘Yeah. I need to talk to her. I already made up my mind on that, Lizzie, no matter what your response was. It’s not fair to her. I’ve always been in love with you.’

For the first time she smiles, small and fleeting, but a smile.

‘I can’t promise anything. I need to know what Caroline says. But if she agrees… one more chance. That’s it.’

‘I won’t let you down,’ he promises. ‘It’s gonna work. It _will_ , Lizzie.’

She stretches out a hand and touches his wrist. He covers her hand immediately and squeezes it, looking into her eyes. ‘Please don’t let us down,’ she says. He nods and she moves closer, resting her head against his shoulder. He closes his eyes and inhales her familiar and beloved scent, light and floral and elegant. Oh, God, his beautiful Lizzie… this is all he wants. For the first time all day, all year, he feels like he could have his life back within his grasp. She whispers almost inaudibly, ‘Oh, please don’t, Mike.’

He nods again and she turns her hand in his, gripping it tightly for a moment before letting go and straightening up. She looks into his eyes, her grey gaze steady and solemn.

‘My parents will be wondering where I disappeared to. I’ll call you in the morning.’

‘Thank you, Lizzie.’

She nods and stands. ‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

He stands too and follows her out of the gazebo.

‘Drive safe, Mike,’ she says, turning away from him at the fork in the path. ‘And--good luck.’

‘Thanks. You too.’

She gives him a watery smile and turns away; he watches as she walks back to the porch, not turning back to look at him. He walks back to the car, feeling infinitely lighter. He has a shot. This time he’s not gonna fuck it up.


	12. Chapter 12

He makes it back to One PP by five o’clock and he’s racked up an additional half dozen calls from the Captain and Carolyn during the time he spent with Liz and the drive back. He listens to the messages as he walks from the garage to the precinct--the Captain’s giving him additional information about Wheeler, telling him that the charges against her fiancé are federal and apparently substantiated, Carolyn’s growing in frustration as she pleads with him to call him back about the article in the _Ledger_. He hangs up and flashes his shield at the desk, taking the elevator up to his floor.

He stops short as he steps into the squad room. Carolyn’s at his desk talking to Eames and Wheeler, who looks up and shoots him a look of profound relief. Before he can duck behind the column Carolyn catches Wheeler’s gaze and whirls around to stare at him. In an instant she crosses the floor to him, heedless of their audience, and draws him down for a deep kiss. He stiffens, though generally such a sign of affection would be welcome, and she pulls back immediately. 

‘Where have you been?’ she demands, masking her concern with frustration. ‘I’ve been callin’ you all day.’

‘Out. Look, I’ve got to talk to the Captain.’

‘Talk to me first,’ she insists. ‘Ross can wait.’

‘It won’t take long.’ He dislodges her grip and strides to his office.

‘Mike--’ she says, catching up with him as he reaches the door.

Fuck. He doesn’t want to deal with her yet. ‘Give me a few minutes, Carolyn, then we can talk.’

He doesn’t wait for her to agree but knocks on the door.

‘Come in!’ Ross calls, and he does, closing the door firmly behind him. 

‘Mike--I’ve been calling you all afternoon. I presume Wheeler has updated you--her fiance’s in federal lockup.’

‘Yeah, she called.’

‘Okay, well, it looks like Driver’s on the warpath. I want you to lay low for a while--let’s try to keep you off her radar. I have to admit I really don’t want her to go pissing off the Chief of D’s office if she decides to go after Barek as a way to get to you.’

He rubs his forehead then looks at his captain. ‘Yeah, well, it’ll be easy to keep me off her radar. I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinkin’ today… I’m goin’ off the grid. I’m turnin’ in my shield.’

‘You’re WHAT?’ he yells, astonished.

‘I’m gonna retire. Today. I’ve been on the Force for thirty years… it’s time.’

‘Where the hell did you go today, Logan? What going on?’

‘I told you, I went to talk to my priest,’ he says stubbornly. ‘Listen, Captain--it’s just gonna be easier all around. After this… I’m gonna end up on Staten Island again, or worse, and… well, that’s not what I need to be doin’. That’s gonna be a waste…’ He stops and looks at Ross.

‘Have you talked to Barek? What does she think?’

He forces back annoyance at being treated like someone who doesn’t know better. ‘No, I haven’t talked to her yet. I talked to… someone else.’ He shakes his hand, dispelling the memory of Liz leaning against his shoulder. ‘Look, Captain, my decision’s final. It has to be.’

Ross sighs and leans against his desk, crossing his arms. ‘You’re not gonna be able to change your mind, y’know. Once the paperwork’s submitted they’re never gonna let you back on the Force, not with Driver gunning for you.’

God, it’s so final… well, he knows that, and this is how it’s gotta be. ‘I know.’

‘Take a week, think about it. You’re owed some leave anyway. Take that time and then let me know what you decide.’

‘I’ll take the week, but I’m not going to change my mind,’ he says.

‘Just take the week, Mike--please.’

He nods.

‘Thanks. Despite our differences, Logan--you’re a great detective. It would be a real loss if you decided to leave.’

It’s the best compliment he’s ever received from Ross. ‘Thanks, Captain.’

‘Yeah. Okay, I’ll see you in a few days. Talk to Barek and think about it.’

He nods and leaves the office, nearly tripping over Carolyn.

‘I’m takin’ the rest of the week. Ready to go?’

‘Yeah. We need to talk.’

‘Yeah. We do,’ he agrees, not waiting for her to catch up with him as he strides out the door.

‘Mike--you’ve got to wait up,’ she says, grabbing at his elbow. He stops and looks down at her, her brown eyes looking up at him with anxiety and concern. ‘Are you all right?’

He’s not, but he will be, he thinks silently, looking away from her. ‘I don’t want to talk here. Your place?’ he suggests. It’s not his own turf but he’s hurting her enough--better to be able to leave her where she’s comfortable, not force her out of his place.

‘Yeah, of course, hon,’ she agrees, slipping her arm into his. He starts walking again, moderating his pace to allow her to keep up with him. Soon, hopefully, Lizzie… but now he needs to keep his mind fixed on Carolyn. He needs to explain it to her, explain that he needs to end their relationship because he doesn’t want to hurt her. It could never go anywhere, with or without Liz, because he doesn’t want to marry her and she wants that from him--marriage and children and commitment. She shouldn’t be too surprised… hell, even though he’s essentially living with her now he still has stuff at his old place and still has the lease. It’ll take a while to get his stuff back from Carolyn’s but at least he can make a start tonight. A start… God, starting again at fifty, trying to recapture happiness… what did Holly say that night? _My mother taught me that the world was bound to break your heart… the funny thing was, she always asked me if I was happy. I still have no idea what happiness is._ Well, he knows what it is, besides that convertible ride with his cousin… happiness is Lizzie sprawled out on a towel at the beach in Southampton, smiling at him; the feel of her body against his as she turned to him in sleep; the way she looked at him across a dinner table, eyes warm. It could be the sound of his daughter’s laughter, her hand in his as they walk home from school, the three of them watching a movie together. But happiness--for either him or Carolyn--is not gonna be him pretending that their life is everything he wants.

He unlocks the car and slides into the driver’s seat, glancing over at Carolyn as she closes the door. He hasn’t seen her for a couple of days, not since he called that reporter at the _Ledger_. He’s not really surprised she showed up at One PP, but he is surprised by how tired she looks. She has dark circles under her eyes and her suit is a bit more wrinkled than usual. Sighing, she tips back the seat and closes her eyes as he pulls out of the garage.

‘You okay?’ he asks as he pulls onto the Bridge, glancing over at her again. Her eyes are still closed and she nods.

‘How about you?’

He nods, then realizes she can’t see him. ‘Yeah. Better than I have been for a while,’ he admits, realizing it’s true.

Her eyes pop open in surprise and he sees her turn to look at him. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s good,’ she says, still surprised, and smiles warmly. ‘That’s great, hon. I’ve been worried, what with this whole Driver thing…’

His heart constricts at her concern--she _does_ love him, but… ‘Yeah. Well, it’s over now, so that’s one less thing to worry about.’

Her brow furrows in confusion. ‘Is it, though? Wheeler seemed concerned that there might be some… retribution on Driver’s part. Looks like it’s already started.’

He grows somber. ‘Yeah. Didn’t think of that when I called my friend at the Ledger. Well, I didn’t think she’d go after Wheeler.’

‘What did you expect would happen?’

He ignores her question, his hands clenching on the steering wheel, and pulls off the Bridge and drives down Atlantic Avenue, heading for her place in Boerum Hill. He finds a spot on her block, outside the brownstone that holds her first-floor apartment. Watching as she climbs up the steps, he realizes that this is it. He’s gonna lose her--and while no, she isn’t the woman he’s in love with, he still loves her. She is surprisingly ferocious and tender all at once, so open with him once they started their relationship. She cooked for him, cared for him, loved him… she wanted him to be happy. She wanted to share her life with him, wanted a future… and he couldn’t tear himself away from the dream of an ideal he found and lost years ago. He never pegged himself for a dreamer but he couldn’t let Liz go, especially after Caroline… maybe it’s the same force that drove his family to leave Ireland and come to the States, the search for a better life... what he had with her was the better life. And now… now, he wants it back, and he’s willing to risk everything to get there.

‘Do you want something to drink, hon? Or eat?’ she offers, stepping into her apartment. He’s always felt comfortable here, at home among her sturdy restored antiques. This apartment has nothing of the elegance of Liz’s home, filled with a mixture of antiques and modern pieces. Despite sharing her home for nearly three years he never really felt he belonged there; he always did in Carolyn’s home. Carolyn scoured flea markets for her furniture; Liz inherited hers, and every piece has a story. He knew his family history but Liz lived hers every day in the intergenerational family she had… He remembers their Christmases and Thanksgivings and Fourth of Julys, the family gathered together to celebrate, everyone deeply involved in each other’s lives, chattering away with that peculiar vernacular he still couldn’t get a handle on even after three and a half years. Liz slipped into the family shorthand too, sharing stories of a web of mutual acquaintances and experiences. Even though he’s dragged to Carolyn’s parents’ apartment nearly every Sunday for lunch it’s nothing remotely like that. Compared to the Olivets and Griswolds their noise and commotion was familiar and restful. No one was watching him surreptitiously, judging him if he used the wrong fork or wore the wrong color shoes. Carolyn’s family didn’t care and he felt far more comfortable with them, almost relaxed, and knew they didn’t expect anything from him he wasn’t capable of giving. It was only Carolyn who wanted more than he could give.

‘Hon?’ Carolyn asks, raising an eyebrow.

‘Nothing, thanks,’ he says, and walks into the living room, collapsing on the couch. She pours herself a glass of wine and joins him, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

‘So what’s going on, Mike?’ she asks.

He leans back against the arm of the couch to look at her. Not conventionally beautiful, maybe, but darkly attractive with her curling black hair and fiery gaze. She’s much shorter than him, much shorter than Liz, though he always found Liz to be far more delicate than Carolyn--finely wrought, centuries of work poured into creating her. Carolyn was tough, fierce--not that Liz was weak, not at all, but her strength was certainly kept hidden.

Sighing, he begins. ‘I’m retiring.’

She splutters on her wine, setting the glass down on the table so hard she nearly spills it. ‘What did you say? I thought you said you were retiring.’

‘I did.’

‘Mike--why? The job… it’s your life.’

He repeats what he told Liz earlier. ‘If I can’t be effective, if I can’t protect people… I can’t do my job. Driver’s gonna make sure, no matter what else, that I can’t do that. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life fighting her. I have a chance to leave now, to be in the real world… to stop being so angry.’

She sighs. ‘Hon, I know it’s tough, but we do good work, important work. You’ve been on the Force thirty years… this Driver thing is gonna die down soon and then things will go back to normal.’

She doesn’t understand… well, he hasn’t really explained it. ‘The job… it takes everything from me. It’s taken everything…’

‘Not everything,’ she says, laying a hand on his arm. ‘What about us?’

How can he look into her eyes when he says this? What _can_ he say? ‘Caro--’ he says at last, and she stiffens, removing her hand from his arm, her gaze concerned. He remembers, not for the first time in their relationship, that she is a profiler. What possessed him to be with these women who could get inside his head? Maybe it was easier--they knew what he was thinking and he didn’t need to say it.

‘Where were you today? When I couldn’t get you on the phone?’

‘I went to talk to Father Shea at the hospital. I had some things to say to him and he gave me some advice.’

‘What did he say?’

‘That I’d done my duty, I’d served and protected… that I’m angry because I’m not connected to anything.’ He has the momentum now and he continues, saying, ‘Liz told me that too, after the shooting. That I needed a support system.’

‘You have me, Mike,’ she says.

‘After talking to Father Shea I went to see Liz.’

This really startles her; he sees her recoil from his words.

‘Why?’

‘Because I needed her help.’

Her head is tipped to the side as she stares at him. She stays silent and watches, her searching gaze making him uncomfortable. He knows this tactic, her silence making the suspect so uncomfortable they’re forced to speak. Well, it works on him, because he blurts out,

‘Because I’m in love with her.’

She sucks in a breath, her cheeks flushing from anger. ‘So--what? You talk to the priest, decide you’re gonna retire, then…what, drive to the Upper East Side and confess your love for her?’

Trying to avoid her question, he says, ‘She was in Connecticut.’

‘You drove all the way to _Connecticut_ to talk to her?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why, Mike? What kind of hold does she have on you?’ She sighs angrily. ‘I just can’t understand why you still want her. It hurts me to see you hurt yourself trying to get back to her. She doesn’t want you. If she did, don’t you think she would have sought you out when she got separated? If she really wanted you and loved you, why did she marry Stone?’

All these accusations are ones he tortured himself with over the years but for the first time he is sure of himself. He knows that Liz loves him--the fact that she’s willing to give him another chance after everything, after breaking their daughter’s heart… but this isn’t about Liz, not directly. This is about them, about him.

‘I won’t make you happy, Caro,’ he tells her. ‘I’m sorry, I tried. I did,’ he says, defensive at her snort of derision.

‘So how long have you been back with her, then?’ she asks, angry. ‘Have you been seein’ her while we’ve been together?’

‘I haven’t and I’m not. It’s not the reason. I don’t want to hurt you--’

‘But you’re going back to her?’

‘I don’t know.’

She laughs incredulously. ‘What? We have something, Mike. We have a future… what’s going on with you? Cutting all your ties--I’m concerned.’ She is, he realizes, and sees how jarring his sudden decisions must seem. Twelve hours ago he had no idea this was coming… 

‘It’s nothing to worry about. I’m just realizing what I need to focus on now.’

‘And what is that, then, Mike? If it’s not your job, and it’s not us, and it’s not… whatever you have with Liz, then what is it?’

‘My life,’ he says slowly, realizing it’s true.

‘But _this_ is your life! Me, your job-- _this_ is your life!’

‘There’s something else out there,’ he repeats stubbornly.

‘What? What is out there, Mike, that you don’t have right now?’

_My daughter_ , he thinks, Caroline’s beloved face coming to the forefront of his mind. _Liz_. Her smile, her scent, the feel of her hips curving beneath his hands. He can’t tell her that.

‘I love you, Carolyn, but… it’s not fair to you. I’m sorry.’

She is tense, her jaw clenched, as she stares at him. ‘I can’t believe this.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’ She stands up from the couch and begins to pace; he extends his hands in a gesture of appeasement. ‘Please believe me, Carolyn. I don’t want to hurt you more than I can help.’

‘You are so damn frustrating, Mike. You don’t realize what’s best for you--you’re always off flaying yourself for your sins, real and imagined, unable to accept that you can actually have something good. When are you gonna realize that you can be happy with what you have? That you deserve to be happy?’ She sighs, shaking her head and looking at him. ‘We’ve been happy, Mike. We can still be happy. Without you on the job… well, things will change, of course, but we can make it work, I know we can--’

‘Carolyn--’

She whirls around to look at him and he’s surprised to see tears in her eyes. He’s never seen her cry…

‘I’m sorry.’

At last she nods. He feels like a heel, hurting her, but it’s better this way, like ripping off a bandaid.

‘Me too,’ she says at last. ‘I thought we had it good there for a while…’ 

‘We did. It’s not you, Carolyn.’

She chuckles weakly at that. ‘I never thought we’d devolve into cliches, Mike.’

‘Yeah.’ He stands up at last, running a hand through his hair. ‘I’ll get my stuff, I guess.’

‘Yeah,’ she echoes and he nods before going into her bedroom to start gathering his things. It takes a lot longer than he expects, much longer than it did when he walked out on Liz fourteen years ago and when he finally emerges Carolyn is curled up on the couch, sipping her wine.

‘I think that’s it,’ he says awkwardly, shopping bags filled with clothes.

‘Okay. I’ll give you a call if I find anything else, okay?’

He nods and sets down the bags to rummage in his pocket for his keys to her place. Extracting it with some difficulty, he hands the keys to Carolyn.

‘Be well, Mike,’ she says, gripping his wrist tight for a moment before letting go.

‘You too,’ he says, bending to kiss her forehead, inhaling her scent for the last time--darker than Liz, spicy and somehow exotic yet familiar. God, he _will_ miss her… She nods, looking up at him, and he quirks a small smile at her before leaving.


	13. Chapter 13

It takes a long time to unpack his things after he leaves Carolyn’s, and when he’s finally finished it’s too late to go out to get groceries but he’s starving, so he orders Chinese takeout, unwilling to grab a burger and a beer from Peter Jay’s. He’s thought of Holly too often lately, and while now it’s almost without pain it still hurts to think of her, what happened to her… her terrified death. He sighs deeply and pushes her out of his mind. He should find a new place.

After dinner he goes to sleep, sprawling out in the bed, enjoying the unaccustomed freedom. He wakes up in the morning, later than normal, his cell phone ringing loudly.

It’s Liz and he picks up the call, suddenly awake and eager, heart pounding.

‘Liz?’

‘Hi, Mike,’ she says, her voice gentle. ‘How are you?’

‘Yeah, fine, good--how are you?’ he asks, nervous and eager.

‘How did… things go?’

He just wants to know how her conversation with Caroline went.

‘They went… okay. Ross wants me to take the week and think things over but I’m not gonna change my mind. The more I think about, the more I realize it’s the right decision.’

‘I’m glad that you’re at peace with this, Mike. And--the other?’

‘Yeah. It’s fine--it’s over. I ended it last night.’

She sighs and is silent for a moment, finally venturing, ‘Are you okay?’ 

‘Better than I’ve been in a long, long time,’ he says, repeating what he told Carolyn. ‘How did everything go with you?’

‘I talked to Caroline. She wanted me to tell you that she’d be willing to listen to you. She wanted me to extend an invitation to lunch.’ She laughs nervously. ‘She’s spent too much time with my mother, she speaks like something out a drawing room comedy when she’s nervous.’

‘And is she? Nervous, I mean,’ he asks, heart clenching at the thought.

She doesn’t deny it. ‘We talked for a long time last night, Mike. I’ve always tried to be honest with her. She wanted to know about us, how we were…’

‘What did you tell her?’

‘That I’ve been in love with you for eighteen years and that you loved me, too. That you came to the hospital when she was born and that you gave her Topsy. That you loved her… that you want another chance… we both do.’

‘Oh, Lizzie--’ he says, overwhelmed after a difficult night, by her words of support.

‘I do mean it, you know. She knows that.’

‘Good. I mean it too.’

‘I know you do.’ After a pause, she asks, ‘will you come for lunch? My parents have invited you too… it would be a good way to break the ice, and then we can talk, the three of us.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he agrees eagerly. ‘What time?’

‘Could you come around 11:30? Is that too early?’

He looks over at his clock; it’s nine, he has time. ‘No, that’s good. I’ll see you then.’

‘Good. We’ll see you then.’

‘See you soon.’

When he hangs up the phone he gets out of bed immediately, taking a quick shower before getting dressed in slacks and a pale blue button-down. It’s a bit chilly and he grabs a jacket on his way out. He wants to get something for her, for them--something to make this easier. Maybe he can get Caroline a new book? And buy Lizzie some flowers or those sea salt chocolates she likes… he’s gotta get going.

He finds the chocolates at Gristedes and buys her a dozen white roses too. He doesn’t know what to get Caroline, stuck as he browses the bookshelves at the shop around the corner and settles on a book called _The Golden Compass_. It looks interesting enough and he think he remembers Carolyn mentioning it as a book she bought her nephews. Everything else looks stupid and by the time he settles on the book he has to go.

The April air is damp and fresh as he drives up 95, reminding him of the Easter they spent here, her parents away in Paris. They slept at night with all the windows flung wide open, breathing in the sea air, making love in the gazebo wrapped in blankets… God, he misses that. It was so good when it was just the two of them, so complete--they didn’t need anyone else.

He pulls up to the house at exactly 11:30, turning off the car and gathering his gifts for them. He’s nervous--this is his last chance and he needs to convince Caroline that he loves her, that he deserves another chance to be a part of their lives.

His heart is in his throat as he approaches the front door. This needs to work… as he walks up the painted wooden steps to the front door he sees Liz, waiting for him on the porch swing. She is reading and he takes a moment to look at her. God, he can’t believe they got together eighteen years ago… they were so young. Now, at forty-eight, she’s still so beautiful, though the stresses and sorrows of the years have left their marks. She looks up at him to smile and everything clicks back into place.

‘Hi, Lizzie,’ he says, meeting her gaze.

‘Hi, Mike.’ She closes her book and stands to meet him. They face each other for a long moment before she laughs a bit and he steps closer to her, bending to kiss her cheek.

‘These are for you,’ he offers, handing her the flowers and chocolates. She accepts them, laughing again, and his confusion must show on his face because she smiles.

‘It’s just so sweet, Mike,’ she replies, and this time she stretches up to kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you.’

‘Thank _you_ , Lizzie--for giving me another chance.’

She nods, her eyes soft. ‘Let’s go inside. I think Caroline’s out back.’

‘Is she… okay?’ he asks, and she grows somber again.

‘She wanted some time to herself this morning, but yes.’

‘I brought her a book. _The Golden Compass_.’

She smiles. ‘She’ll love it. That was very kind of you.’

‘Thanks. I hope she likes it… I hope that she listens.’

Juggling her gifts, she reaches out to rest one hand on his arm. ‘She will. She will, Mike.’

‘I hope so, Lizzie.’

She nods. ‘Let’s go in, Mike. It will be fine… let’s go talk to Caroline and have lunch.’

‘What do your parents think about it?’ he asks as she turns to open the door. She turns back around to face him, letting her hand drop from the doorknob.

‘They want me to be happy. They want Caroline to be happy. They do like you--’ she catches his raised eyebrow. He knows that they did, years ago… he remembers taking them to lunch, asking for their blessing after he’d bought Liz an engagement ring. They were delighted… ‘They do, Mike, honestly. Even after…’ she bites her lip and looks away. ‘They still like you. They just want us to be happy, and I’ve always been happy with you.’

‘What is happiness to you?’ he asks her, curious.

She meets his eyes and gives it some serious thought, biting her lower lip. After a moment she smiles, her eyes soft and loving as she reminisces. ‘Remember making love on the _Selkie_ that first summer? On the deck, under the stars… that. That is happiness.’

‘Oh, Lizzie--’ he says, moved. He remembers it so well, the best time he ever had on a boat, that long, long weekend, just the two of them… champagne and bacon and eggs for half of their meals, his beautiful girlfriend in his arms. He never wanted to let her go. He swallows back sudden, unexpected tears. ‘I remember.’

‘I miss that feeling. I never had it with Ben…’ she shakes her head, turning away from him again. ‘Let’s go inside.’

He follows her into the house, unchanged even after fourteen years. This place never changes and he smiles to himself, inhaling the half-remembered scent of wood polish and salt air.

‘Let me put my flowers down--they are beautiful,’ she says over her shoulder, darting a quick smile. ‘Will you wait in the library? I’ll be right back.’

‘Okay,’ he agrees, stepping into the living room as she continues down the hallway. This room hasn’t changed either; he feels like he’s stepped into his past. He prowls around the room, looking at the familiar pictures, the books on the shelves. He hears footsteps in the hallway and he turns back.

Caroline precedes her mother through the door, stopping in front of him. She’s grown so much in the six months since he’s seen her. She looks so much like Liz his heart flips over, but he sees himself in her too--in the way she stands, her brows drawn together as she looks up at him.

‘Hi, honey,’ he says, smiling at her. ‘How are you?’

‘Okay,’ she says, and, at the touch of Liz’s hand on her shoulder, she asks, ‘how are you?’

‘I’m good. I’m really happy to see you.’

Her eyes widen in surprise and there’s a small smile on her lips before she quickly composes herself. God, she _is_ Lizzie in miniature… his beautiful daughter. She dips her head and tucks her hair behind her ears.

‘Why don’t we all sit down?’ Liz suggests, resting a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. ‘We still have a bit of time before lunch.’

Caroline twists around to look up at her; Liz gives her an encouraging smile.

‘Come on, sweetheart. Why don’t you tell Mike about your plans for spring break?’ She meets his eyes, prompting him to talk to their daughter.

‘I’d love to hear about your plans, honey. And school… and everything,’ he says, laughing. Liz smiles in relief and leads their daughter to the sofa. He sits down on the opposite end, looking at them, unable to keep from smiling. He is so lucky to have another chance with them.

Caroline looks at him, studying him with her mother’s calm, level stare. ‘Did you really give me Topsy?’

He nods, unsure what to say.

‘And Mommy said you came to visit at the hospital when I was born.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I did.’

‘Why?’

He looks at Liz. She says, stroking her daughter’s hair, ‘Because he was excited to meet you.’

‘But why?’ Caroline presses, twisting to look at her mother, then back at him.

‘Because you are your mother’s daughter,’ he replies, the only thing he can say without admitting that she’s also his daughter, as much as he wants to.

‘And you loved Mommy?’

God, she was absolutely raised by a lawyer. He recognizes Stone’s cross-examination technique and he takes a deep breath as he prepares to answer her questions.

‘I’ve always loved your mother. I’ve never stopped loving her. I messed things up a couple of times,’ he admits, glancing quickly up at Liz before turning back to their daughter. ‘But it’s not gonna happen again. I don’t want to hurt either of you. Your mother… I asked her to give me another chance. I want you to give me another chance too, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I said those things. They weren’t true. It hurt… that your mother had you with your dad and not with me. That we weren’t together. You’re such a special girl, Caroline--I’d be the luckiest guy in the world if you would let me make it up to you. I want to be with your mom and I really want to be a part of your life.’

Both Caroline and Liz are regarding him with identical, solemn gazes and his heart pounds, nervous. He can’t tell if it’s going all right; he doesn’t know his daughter well enough and that hurts so much.

‘What about your girlfriend?’ Caroline asks at last, breaking the tense silence.

‘Carolyn and I aren’t together any more.’

‘Because she wanted kids?’

‘Because I wanted to be with you--both of you. What you said, that you thought we could be a family… I think we could, too.’

‘Really?’

‘Really, darling,’ Liz says, speaking at last. Caroline turns to look at her and he watches her too. ‘But we don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I love you--we both love you--and we want you to be happy.’

‘You promise?’ Caroline asks.

‘I promise,’ she vows. ‘We want to know what you’re feeling.’

She nods and Caroline nods too, then turns back to look at him. ‘What will happen? When you start dating Mommy?’

They both let out an enormous sigh of relief at the same time, then meet each other’s eyes with suppressed laughter.

‘What’s so funny?’ Caroline demands, frowning.

‘Nothing, darling. We’re just relieved you’re willing to consider it. We’re happy.’

‘Are you?’ she asks.

‘Yes,’ they say at the same time, and exchange a smile. This is how it’s supposed to be… things are supposed to be comfortable and easy and right, and this is it.

Caroline nods again, pleased. ‘Good. So--what will happen?’

‘We can have dinner together a few times a week, maybe Mike can pick you up from school… it will be different, darling, but it will be good.’

‘Okay.’ Suddenly she smiles wide. It’s the first time he’s really seen her smile since that day in the park and God, everything he’s ever done in his life, everything he’s given up, is worth it for that. His daughter… does Liz feel this every time she looks at her? This overwhelming knowledge that they made this beautiful girl, that she is _theirs_ \--it’s so astonishing it feels like a bullet through the heart. Their daughter, this incredibly special person who is so _happy_ because he wants to be a part of her life--Christ, how did he ever keep away from her? And how could Liz ever forgive him for missing so much of her life, for not being there, for not fighting for them… her willingness to forgive, to welcome him back into their lives once again, floors him and he blinks quickly, trying to suppress unexpected tears.

‘Thank you,’ he says, his voice hoarse. ‘Thank you both.’

Caroline leans forward to hug him and he wraps his arms around her, holding her tight. He looks up at Liz; she is crying as she smiles and reaches out to take his hand, squeezing it tight. He can feel tears on his own face and for once he doesn’t care. _This_ is happiness.

His daughter pulls back and looks up at him, surprised. ‘You’re crying, Mike.’

‘I’m happy,’ he says, and squeezes Liz’s hand. She smiles back at him and wipes away her tears, clearing her throat.

‘I don’t know about you two but I’m starving. How about we see if lunch is ready, hmm?’ Liz suggests.

‘Yes!’ Caroline exclaims, jumping up from the couch. ‘Nina made lobster rolls,’ she explains, and then runs into the dining room, leaving them alone.

Unable to say anything, he draws her close, embracing her. She returns his embrace, her arms tightening around him.

‘Thank you, Lizzie. Thank you so much,’ he whispers. ‘Christ, I must be the luckiest man in the world… how could you ever forgive me for missing so much? For not being there?’

‘Because I love you, silly,’ she says, voice thickening. She squeezes him once more, then pulls back to look into his eyes. ‘I love you so much.’

It honestly takes his breath away. When they fell into bed together eighteen years ago he never expected this… how could he be so goddamn lucky? He grins at her and she returns his smile, stretching up to kiss him.

‘Mommy!’ Caroline calls just before her lips meet his, and sighs, kissing him quickly before pulling away.

‘We’re coming, darling!’ she calls back, and smiles at him with an easy joy he remembers from their earliest days together. He never thought he’d see her like this again. ‘We’ll talk later.’


	14. Chapter 14

Her parents are waiting for them in the dining room.

‘It’s so nice to have you here, Mike,’ Isobel says warmly, coming over to kiss his cheek. He’s surprised by her welcome; surprised, too, that Nick shakes his hand and gets him a beer.

‘Can Mike sit next to me?’ Caroline asks and he is touched and so grateful for her sudden warmth towards him.

‘Of course, sweetheart,’ Liz agrees. Isobel excuses herself to go into the kitchen and collect their lunch. Liz goes to help her and Caroline pulls him down into the seat next to her.

‘Everything’s well with you?’ Nick asks. ‘Liz told us you’re retiring.’

‘Yeah, I am. Looking forward to taking some time off. Maybe I’ll take up tennis,’ he jokes.

‘You could play with me, then, Mike!’ his daughter says, delighted, and he grins at her.

‘Yeah--that would be fun,’ he agrees, ruffling her hair. She grins back at him, his own smile. If he’d been her father her whole life would he still be struck by it? How amazing it is--his daughter.

‘I have a spare racquet in the garage, Mike, if you want. I bet Liz would be happy to give you lessons.’

‘Lessons in what?’ Liz asks, coming back into the dining room carrying a tray of food.

‘Tennis lessons--Mike wants to learn to play tennis!’ Caroline exclaims, and she laughs in real delight.

‘I’d be happy to give you lessons,’ she says, beaming. He returns her grin, though he knows he’ll now have to pick it up. Well, she always looked great in a tennis skirt, especially when it flipped up as she lunged for a shot. She can tell what he’s thinking as she blushes, setting down the tray. Her mother is close behind her and they all help themselves to food. Lunch--and this whole day, honestly--is easier than he expects, easier than he deserves. Caroline chatters on, talking about her school, her friends, her plans for her spring break, and he listens eagerly to the exclusion of all else. She is happy to share, answering all of his questions. He glances over at Lizzie once or twice, seeing her smile at them. Even Isobel and Nick look happy and this feels so good it must be a dream.

He helps Liz bring their dirty dishes to the kitchen after lunch, as Isobel and Nick have plans in town and Caroline has discovered the book he bought her. Nina, the family’s housekeeper, is in the kitchen, and as they step inside he remembers very clearly the first time they met.

‘He’ll break your heart,’ Nina told Liz, and she was right. It was almost predestined. Well, he’s not gonna let it happen again, and when she looks up at them, her eyes narrow.

‘You remember Mike, don’t you, Nina?’ Liz asks, and they both take note of the false cheer in her voice.

‘Of course. It’s been a long time,’ she says.

‘How are you, Nina?’ he asks, setting down the plates. Meeting Liz’s parents again after so long was one thing; he always got the sense that Nina could see straight through him and found him lacking. 

‘I’m just fine. How are you?’

‘Great. I’m retiring next week… it’ll be good to get off the street after thirty years. Start again.’

She nods, not responding except to raise an eyebrow. Liz shoots him an apologetic glance and they set the plates down.

‘We’re going to find Caroline, Nina, but we’ll see you later.’

‘Of course.’

Liz slips her arm in his and brings him out of the kitchen.

‘She still doesn’t like me,’ he says.

‘It’ll just take some time,’ she reassures him, ignoring the fact it’s been eighteen years. ‘Come on, let’s find our daughter.’

They can hear Caroline laughing as they leave the kitchen.

‘I think she’s outside,’ she says, drawing him towards the back door. As they step onto the porch he stops in surprise.

‘Hey, Mike--long time no see!’ Teddy, Liz’s eldest cousin, says. ‘I brought Eliza--my daughter--over to play with Caroline.’ He smiles. ‘So, you and Liz are back together then?’

‘Yes, we are,’ she says firmly, squeezing his hand.

‘So how’s everything with you, Teddy?’ he asks, looking at him. He was one of the first people in Liz’s family to welcome him all those years ago. He’s much the same, only greyer, and he grins at them.

‘Good--Chrissy and I have been together for twenty years now, and we have three kids--well, you know Jack--he’s seventeen now!--and Henry, who is thirteen, and then Eliza, who is ten.’

‘She’s Caroline’s best friend,’ Liz adds. ‘Closer than sisters.’

‘And named after Liz, of course--her godmother.’

‘That’s great,’ he replies absently, scanning the lawn for the girls. He spies them at last swinging from the old tire swing off to the side.

‘Listen, I’ve got to get going--I promised Jack I’d take him driving--so would you mind dropping Eliza off at the house later, please, Liz?’

‘Of course.’

‘Great, thanks. I’ll see you later--we should all get dinner soon, catch up,’ he suggests, and Liz agrees. ‘It’s nice to have you back, Mike.’

‘Thanks,’ he replies, squeezing Liz’s hand. ‘It’s good to be back.’

After Teddy leaves Liz draws him over to the porch swing, pulling his arm around her shoulders. He leans back and sighs happily, content to have her resting against him. It feels like no time has passed.

She closes her eyes and snuggles against him, tucking her feet beneath her as he gives the swing a casual push with his foot. ‘I have missed you so much, you know,’ she says.

‘Me too,’ he agrees, his arm tightening around her. ‘So much, and every day.’ Her eyes are closed and she has a small, secret smile on her face. ‘Oh, honey…’ he kisses her forehead and she sighs, this time happily.

‘We need to talk things through. We need to decide what happens next.’

‘Okay,’ he says, a bit perplexed. ‘Like what?’

‘When does your retirement start?’

‘I have the week to make up my mind and I’ll formally submit my resignation next week.’

‘And then what? What do you want to do next?’

He closes his eyes. ‘I don’t know. Just… figure things out. Get to know our daughter. I dunno. Maybe I even will ask you for tennis lessons.’

She laughs. ‘I hope you do. Caroline would be delighted to have you play with her.’

He grins. ‘Well, the one thing I really want to do is to spend time with you--with you and Caroline. As much as I can. I don’t want to waste any more time.’

‘Me neither. Oh, my darling--’ she breaks off, and his heart swells at her endearment. ‘When will you need to go back to the precinct? Would you… would you like to come up and spend some time with us here? Two or three days? If you don’t need to be in the city you could drive up tomorrow, spend a few days here. Caroline’s on her break… we could spend time together, the three of us.’

‘Really?’ he asks, suddenly joyful. ‘Yeah, of course. I would love to.’

‘Good.’ She squeezes his hand again. ‘Why don’t we go tell Caroline?’

‘In a minute. I’ve missed having you in my arms.’

She smiles again, then asks, ‘Are you happy?’

‘Yeah. Happier than I’ve been for years.’

‘Me too.’

‘It shouldn’t be this easy, should it?’ he ventures. ‘I mean…’

‘I know what you mean. But surely we deserve a break. It’s been so long… and I’ve missed you so much.’

‘Me too, Lizzie.’

‘We just need to be open with each other. We both need to talk… that’s what went wrong every other time.’

‘We will. I’m not gonna lose you again.’

‘I couldn’t bear it.’ She sighs. ‘Eighteen years--can you believe it?’

‘You’re as beautiful as the day we met.’

She laughs again. ‘There’s that Logan charm I remember.’

He chuckles. ‘Only for you.’

‘It better be,’ she jests, opening her eyes and tilting her head back to look at him. ‘You meant it, didn’t you? What you told Caroline? That we could be a family?’

‘It’s all I want.’

‘Me too. So--we’ll start again. It should be easier this time--we’ve already got past the favorite foods, family history, favorite sexual positions bit.’

‘Lizzie!’ he laughs in astonishment, and she giggles. 

‘I look forward to getting back on track.’ This time they aren’t interrupted when she kisses him, her lips moving softly against his. He kisses her back, rediscovering the feel of her, and God--she feels good, like they’ve never left each other. He can feel her smiling against his lips, and he smiles too, wanting to laugh. Was it only yesterday that he was so unhappy because of Terri Driver? It seems like another lifetime. She pulls back and turns to face him, taking his hand in hers.

‘And I’m glad you’ll be spending some time with us,’ she says. ‘It will be an easier way to get used to get to know her. I swear, Caroline’s school schedule is almost as complicated as our work schedules were.’

One eyebrow goes up. ‘Really?’

‘Really. Besides classes, she has tennis on Mondays and Wednesdays, swimming on Tuesday, and French lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays.’ She catches his astonished gaze and shrugs. ‘I was thinking about getting a French au pair for the summer as her tutor will be away and I’ll need some help anyway.’

‘Why does she need all of this?’ he asks. ‘Doesn’t she have any time to… be a kid?’

It’s the wrong thing to say--she tenses at once, then forces herself to relax. ‘All the girls in her class take lessons--everyone we know does, so there wouldn’t be anyone to play with--and besides, I’m a single parent and I work. Actually, Caroline’s schedule is much lighter than her friends’. She is finished for the day at 5, except on Tuesdays, and there’s nothing on Friday so that we can come up here as often as possible. I know it’s a lot--but this is how it is.’

‘Well then,’ he says, still reeling from her schedule. When he was growing up he’d get out of school and play with his friends, running around the park… well, maybe if he’d had more supervision, Father Krolinsky--he stops thinking right there. That’s in the past, but it takes on a new meaning now that he thinks about his daughter. What if something like that happens to her? He searches her out on the lawn--she and her cousin are sitting close together on the grass, heads bent as they talk and laugh together. God, what if instead of her mother’s blessed childhood she has his instead?

She takes his silence for judgement. ‘I would never force her to do something she didn’t want to do. She loves learning, Mike, and she chose all her activities. I want her to be well-rounded and educated and above all, happy.’

‘I know you do,’ he says. ‘I’m glad she has you.’

Looking into his eyes, she says, ‘I’m glad she’ll have you now, too. I am so glad she is your daughter.’

As he swallows the lump in his throat, trying to respond, Caroline and her cousin run up to the porch. Liz turns away from him, smiling at the girls, stretching out her arms for a hug from Eliza.

‘Hello, my darling! I was wondering when I’d get a chance to see you.’

‘Hi Aunt Liz,’ she replies, grinning as she hugs her tight. Eliza looks a lot like her mother though she has the unmistakable features of Liz’s mother’s family, the Griswolds. They look almost like sisters.

‘This is Mike, Eliza,’ Caroline says as Eliza pulls back from Liz.

‘Hi,’ she says politely, extending her hand. He smiles at her, shaking it.

‘Hi, Eliza,’ he says. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’

‘You too.’

Caroline turns to her mother. ‘Mommy, can we watch a movie, please?’

‘Of course. Will you say goodbye to Mike? He’ll be leaving soon.’

She starts to pout. ‘Can’t he stay longer?’

‘Actually, he’s going to come up tomorrow, spend a few days with us--what do you think?’

‘Yay!’ she exclaims, and hugs him. He hugs her back, dropping a kiss on her forehead. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Mike. How long are you staying?’

‘I don’t know,’ he says, looking at Liz. ‘A few days.’

‘Good. Will you come watch me play tennis? Eliza and I are playing against each other tomorrow.’

‘Sure thing.’

‘Good.’ She turns back to her mother. ‘Can we make popcorn?’

‘Ask Nina if there is any--but all right.’

‘Thank you, Aunt Liz!’ Eliza says, and she and Caroline run, hand-in-hand, into the house.

‘Do you think your parents could watch Caroline tomorrow night? Maybe we could go out to dinner?’

‘I’d like that.’

This time he leans forward to kiss her, drawing her close. Safe in the knowledge the girls are upstairs and that Liz wants him, he deepens the kiss. She tightens her embrace, shifting to move close, and she moans slightly as he runs his tongue along her lower lip. He’s never, ever wanted anyone as much as he wants Liz and it’s been so long… as she shifts even closer, half on his lap, he feels a surge of arousal. As he lowers his hand to her breast, beginning to caress, she pulls back abruptly and looks at him, eyes wide.

‘We can’t do this--not yet.’

He nods, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘I want you, though,’ he admits. 

‘I want _you_. God, I want you so much, you have no idea…’

Grinning, he replies, ‘I bet I have some idea.’

She shakes her head, reaching out to cup his cheek. ‘It’s been a long, long time… over two years.’ 

‘Two years?! Jesus, Liz, you could hardly stand it when we weren’t together for two weeks,’ he blurts out, and she blushes, embarrassed.

‘After Ben and I separated… well, there wasn’t anyone else. I didn’t want anyone else except you.’

‘God, Liz. I don’t--I don’t know what to say.’

She buries her face against his shoulder, her voice muffled. ‘Even if I’d been inclined to date… Caroline is my life, Mike. I didn’t want to leave her with the nanny and try to chase something I’d already found with you.’

He strokes her hair, contemplating her confession. ‘I can’t believe it.’

She shrugs, then pulls back from him, eyes lowered. ‘I should go check on the girls, make sure they’re settled. What time do you think you can get here tomorrow?’

‘Whenever you want. As early as you’ll have me.’

‘Good. How about 10? Caroline and Eliza are playing tennis at 11.’

‘I’ll be here.’

‘I’m so glad. I love you.’

He kisses her again, a gentle kiss this time. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

 

Back at his apartment, he realizes that he is just as anxious about this upcoming visit as he was the first time he spent a weekend at Liz’s parents’ house, if not more so. The stakes are way higher--this is his last chance, he knows. He digs out clothes she bought him years ago--khakis and polos and boat shoes, a suit, a blazer, sneakers and running clothes… he goes out and buys her parents a nice bottle of rum, remembering the traditional summer gift. At last he’s ready and he collapses on the couch in front of the TV with a beer.

It’s gonna be good this time. It’s gotta be good. He loves her, both of them, more than he ever thought was possible. Eighteen years… they have a chance to be a family and he wants that so badly. The thought of being able to wake up with Lizzie, to be able to pick his daughter up from school is intoxicating. And now that he’s retiring it’s a possibility. He can spend as much time as possible with the two of them--the thought of such freedom makes him a bit dizzy. Before Liz he’d never really taken any stretches of time off, but after… he loved their time together, the leisure she introduced him to. Even taking time off to spend with Carolyn was different. She scheduled their days, not wanting to waste a moment, whereas Liz embraced the unstructured nature of a day off. It took a lot of getting used to but once he did it was so good. It felt fantastic to know that he could wake up at the beach and not have anything to do all day except read or eat or make love to her… 

He can’t believe she hasn’t been with anyone since she separated from Stone. He had no idea… she was always so passionate, so inventive, that he can’t believe she lasted two years without anyone… what she said, though, made sense. It was clear that she loved their daughter, that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her. If she was gonna take time away from her she’d only do it if she knew it was right, and there was no way she was gonna expose her daughter to someone she knew wasn’t gonna stick around… 

Well, he’s sticking around. He’s going to be there for her, for them.


	15. Chapter 15

She wakes up very early in the morning, practically before the sun comes up, and tiptoes down the hallway to her mother’s room. Easing open the door, she looks at her, sleeping soundly in her bed. She closes the door behind her and her mother wakes up, blinking sleepily and smiling at her.

‘Good morning, darling. You’re up early,’ she says, yawning.

‘I didn’t mean to wake you up,’ she says, and her mother dismisses her apology.

‘It’s fine, sweetheart.’ She pushes herself up and pats the bed next to her. ‘Come cuddle with me and let’s talk a little bit.’

She nods and gets into bed next to her mother, snuggling close, her arm around her shoulders.

‘Are you really okay with everything, darling? With Mike becoming a part of our lives?’

Closing her eyes, she pictures him, the way he smiles at her, the way he looks at Mommy, how happy he was yesterday when she asked what would happen when they started dating. He looked so happy to spend time with her and that made her feel good, too. She nods against her mother’s shoulder.

‘I’m glad. I think it will be good for all of us to spend some time together here. It will be nice for us--the three of us--to learn how to be together. He really wants to be a part of our lives, Caroline.’

She nods again, weighing her mother’s words, trying to picture what that means. She never really did anything with both of her parents. Daddy has never really been interested in spending time with her. After the divorce she went to visit Daddy in Paris for New Year’s, going with her half-sister Julie and Julie’s two sons, Ian and Stuart. The boys are just about her age--Ian is a year older and Stuart is a year younger--but Daddy loves to spend time with them. He always has. Even when he and Mommy were married he rarely spent the holidays with them, going to San Francisco instead where they lived. When they were in Paris together for that week she had the worst time ever. She loved Paris when Mommy was there too but it was so different without her. Daddy spent most of the time taking the boys and Julie to see different things--they didn’t speak French and had only been to Paris once before--and after she and the boys got into a fight on the first day because they were teasing her, he left her behind every day with his housekeeper. She still hasn’t told Mommy that because she would cry, even though she had a good time with Renee. They went shopping at Printemps and to Angelina for _chocolat chaud_ , and they even climbed the dome at Sacre Coeur. She got to practice her French too, which was nice, but when they came back after their outings and she left for the day, she had to listen to Ian and Stuart spend all evening talking about how much fun they had with her dad. She cried on their third night there because he took them to Disneyland without her. She was sent to her room--well, the room she had to share with Ian and Stuart--and when they joined her later they made fun of her, telling her that she didn’t deserve to go because she was a crybaby and would have ruined it.

She didn’t speak to them for the entire next day and her father was so mad at her. He had promised that they would go to Cafe de Flore for a special dinner, the two of them, but he told her she wasn’t well-behaved enough to deserve it because she was being mean to the boys. He even told her that she had to stay home the next day and think about why she was being so mean; he told Renee that she was in trouble and was to stay in the apartment while they all went out to Versailles for the day. As soon as they left Renee gave her an enormous hug and she cried for a really long time. When she finished crying, Renee told her to get dressed and they went out for the day anyway, getting ice cream at Berthillon and new books for her to read. Renee kept apologizing, telling her that she did nothing wrong and she was so sorry--and she was sorry, too. It wasn’t fair… when Mommy called that night she pretended everything was fine because she didn’t want her to worry, even though she knew she could tell she was upset. She flew back to New York by herself three days later and Mommy was waiting for her at the gate. She was embarrassed that she started crying as soon as she saw her but she was so happy to be home with her mother who loved her. Mommy rushed over to her and hugged her tight, stroking her hair, wiping away her tears. After they got home she wanted to hear all about Paris and see her photos. It was hard to explain things without lying. She only had a few pictures with Daddy and Julie and the boys and when Mommy asked why she pretended she’d forgotten the camera at the apartment. Mommy didn’t believe her but she didn’t question it.

She was supposed to be in Paris now, too, but when Mommy told her that Julie and the boys would be there again she asked to stay at home. Mommy looked at her carefully, asking if she wanted to talk, but she didn’t. Instead Mommy called Daddy and told him that she was going to stay at home this time and they’d talk about a trip during the summer.

‘Caroline?’ her mother asks gently, and she looks up at her, her eyebrows drawn together in worry. ‘What do you think?’

‘Does he really want to spend time with me? Or did he just say that?’

‘He really does, darling, I promise you. He told me yesterday, after you and Eliza went to watch a movie, that he wanted to learn tennis just so you and he could play together. You know you’ve always had a fun time with him--that’s not going to change, except that we’ll spend more time together. And since your nanny is away this summer, if you’d like, we could see if you could spend time with Mike when you’re not at camp instead of getting an au pair.’

She nods slowly, remembering all the times he watched her when Daddy brought her to his office. They did always have a good time--he was so much fun and she never doubted he liked spending time with her. He didn’t get distracted like Daddy did, either, always checking his phone or his watch or sometimes even pulling out a paper to read.

‘You promise?’

‘I promise,’ her mother replies, looking into her eyes. Her mother’s gaze is warm now and reassuring. ‘I promise, sweetheart. And I want you to promise me something too, okay?’

She nods.

‘I want you to talk about how you’re feeling--whether it’s to me, or your grandparents, or Peter or Miranda… we all love you so much and we want you to be happy. Can you promise me that?’

She nods again. ‘I can talk to you, Mommy,’ she says, and her mother smiles.

‘Good. I want to know how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. I love you so much, you know.’

‘I know,’ she replies, and she does. Her Mommy… she hugs her tight, so grateful for her.

‘Why don’t you and I go get dressed and go pick up muffins from Palmer’s, hmm? What do you think?’

‘Can we get blueberry?’

Her mother laughs and kisses her forehead. ‘Of course. Let’s go--last one downstairs is a rotten egg!’

 

After breakfast she sits on the porch swing on the front porch, reading the new book that Mike brought her yesterday and watching out for him. Mommy is inside helping clean up. She’s nervous--what if Mommy was wrong?--but when he parks the car and walks up to the house he’s grinning at her.

‘There’s my favorite girl!’ he says in delight, setting his bag down on the porch. ‘Can I have a hug?’

She sets aside the book and gives him a hug, his big arms squeezing her gently before releasing her. He is so tall and solid, taller than her dad and warmer, especially when he smiles. He isn’t like any of the other men she knows--the uncles are all tall too, but thinner. Mike seems to take up more space than he actually does. He’s also so open… he smiles a lot around her, too--again, not like Daddy, though the uncles are like that. He doesn’t mind kneeling next to her so that they are the same height and he always hugs her and ruffles her hair. It’s nice and different. 

‘It’s really great to see you, honey. I’m so happy we get a couple days together.’

‘Me too,’ she agrees.

He grins again. ‘I’m also really excited to watch you play tennis. Your grandpa’s offered me his old racquet--I was thinkin’ I’d get your mom to teach me and maybe we could play together?’

Mommy was right--he did want to spend time with her. ‘That would be really fun.’

‘Good!’ He reaches out and ruffles her hair. ‘So, I see you’re reading the book I got you--what do you think? Is it good so far?’

‘I like it. I think it’s really good but I’ve only read a couple of chapters.’

‘Maybe you and I can read some later?’ he suggests. ‘If you still like being read to…’

‘I do,’ she says quickly, knowing she should take what is offered when it is. That’s how it’s always been with Daddy.

‘Great!’ he says, still grinning. She can’t help but return his smile--he looks so happy. ‘When do we have to leave for your game?’

‘Soon--I should get ready.’

‘Sure thing. Should we go inside?’

‘Yes. Mommy’s helping clean up after breakfast and Nina made up the guest room for you. Are you staying until we go back to the city?’

‘I don’t know yet, honey. A few days, though, definitely.’

‘Okay. Let’s go in.’ He holds the door open for her and follows her into the house. ‘Mommy!’ she calls, and a few moments later she emerges from the library. She is smiling widely and she looks really beautiful. Glancing at Mike, she notices that he’s grinning again.

‘Hi, Mike,’ she says, stepping closer to them. Her mother tears her eyes away from him to look down at her, still smiling. ‘We should get ready to walk over to the house, sweetheart, for your game.’

‘Okay,’ she agrees, and heads to the stairs. Turning back as she reaches the bottom step, she sees Mike dip his head to kiss her mother on the cheek.

‘I’m so glad I get to spend time with you both,’ he says. ‘Thank you, Lizzie.’ Her mother smiles at him and she smiles to herself, then turns to go up the stairs.

 

When she comes back downstairs, dressed in her tennis things, Mommy and Mike are on the porch sitting on the swing, his arm around her shoulders.

‘...so glad you’re here.’

He kisses her mother’s forehead. ‘Me too. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you and Caroline for giving me another chance.’

‘I’m glad you want to be--I’m so glad, it’s all I’ve wanted.’

‘And Caroline? Is she happy? I hope she is--’

‘I think so,’ she replies thoughtfully. ‘You have to realize, Mike, that we’ve really only had each other. Ben was never a very involved father… it hurt to realize that, and I think it’s really hurt Caroline. It might take some time for her to let you in.’

‘Like you,’ he points out, and she nods.

‘Just--make sure she knows that you’re there for her. That you want to spend time with her. Ben… Ben would always make his impatience known. And I think something happened when she was visiting him in Paris in January--her half-sister Julie and her sons were there too--but she won’t talk to me about it.’

‘Why do you think something happened?’

‘When she got off the plane in New York she burst into tears when she saw me… she cried the entire way home and wouldn’t let go of my hand. And later, when I asked to see her pictures… she only had two that had Ben in them but quite a few with Ben’s housekeeper Renee and so many just by herself… what if he just went off with his daughter and grandsons and left Caroline behind?’ She buries her head against his shoulder and she can barely hear her next words. ‘Oh, God, Mike--I made the wrong choice.’

What choice? she thinks, then watches with wide eyes as he holds her close and her mother shifts, wrapping her arms around him.

‘I worry about her all the time--I just want her to be happy.’

‘I know you do,’ he murmurs, stroking her hair. ‘Caroline knows that too. She loves you, Lizzie, you’re the best mother imaginable… she’s going to be great. She has you, and she has me--you have me too, honey. You don’t have to worry so much any more.’

‘I can’t help it.’

‘The important thing is that we both love her so much… remember what I asked you years ago, at the beach house? If our kids were gonna have what you did--a loving family, cousins, traditions--Caroline does. You gave her that… and you _love_ her, Lizzie. It takes my breath away.’

She wants to cry. Of course she knows Mommy loves her more than anything--she’s always known that, and known that Daddy resented it… but Mike is okay with that? He loves her too, maybe almost as much as Mommy does? She wants to keep listening but she knows that she should stop. Stepping quietly back into the house, she thumps loudly down the stairs and onto the front porch, smiling.

‘I’m ready,’ she announces, and her mother pulls back from him to smile at her. She can see the faintest glimmer of tears in her eyes, but she blinks and they disappear.

‘Good, darling. I’ll be right back, then let’s walk over.’ She excuses herself and steps back into the house for a minute, leaving them alone.

‘Can I carry your stuff?’ Mike offers, holding out his hand for her tennis bag. She hands it to him and watches as he slings the bag over his shoulder. As he stands up, she tentatively reaches out her hand and takes his, feeling suddenly shy as she looks up at him. He looks down at her, surprised, and her heart sinks. Maybe she didn’t understand what he meant… as she lets go of his hand, looking down at the ground and blushing from embarrassment, he kneels next to her and startles her by engulfing her in a tight hug. So relieved, she squeezes back, hard, her eyes tightly closed to keep tears from slipping out. The hug goes on and on and he brings up one hand to stroke her hair, holding her close. She can’t ever remember Daddy hugging her so tight. She feels warm and safe like this, and when she finally pulls back to look at him he meets her eyes and smiles at her, and he has tears in his eyes again. 

‘I want you to know, honey, that you giving me a second chance… it means the world to me.’

‘Really?’

‘Absolutely.’ He grins at her, then straightens up as her mother walks back outside.

‘Ready to go?’ she asks.

‘What d’you say, Caroline?’ he asks, and she nods, squeezing his hand tight.

 

By the time they arrive she’s let go of Mike’s hand and run ahead, hearing the satisfying thwack of a tennis ball against the strings of the racquet. Eliza is hitting against the backboard while Aunt Chrissy is sipping coffee and curled up on the bench facing the court.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ she says warmly, looking up at her. Obediently she goes over and hugs her, then pulls back to look into her eyes. ‘Eliza was wondering if you’d like to come with us into town after the game for lunch. What do you say?’

‘I need to ask Mommy,’ she replies.

‘Sure,’ her aunt agrees, then looks behind her and smiles.

‘Mike Logan! It’s been a long time,’ she says. 

Mike laughs at her. ‘Not that I’d know by looking at you--you still look the same.’

Her aunt giggles and swats his arm playfully as he embraces her. ‘You always were a shameless flatterer, Mike. Nice to know that hasn’t changed.’

‘Did you really think it would?’ her mother says drily, and they all laugh together.

She looks up at watches them--her aunt, amused and laughing yet watchful. Mike, his arm around her mother’s shoulders, looking down at her with awe. Her mother, tucked under his arm, gazing at him with a look of mixed happiness and disbelief. As though she notices her gaze, her mother shakes her head lightly and then turns to her.

‘Well, darling girl, are you ready for your game?’

‘Oh, before they start, Liz--we’d love it if Caroline would join us for lunch. I have to pick up some things from town and Eliza and I thought we’d make a day of it.’

‘That’s fine with me, if you’d like to go, Caroline,’ her mother replies.

She thinks for a moment before responding. She does want to go but she also wants to spend time with Mike, especially when he’s in such a good mood right now… what if that changes? But she agrees and then runs onto the court, giving her cousin a hug before they start playing tennis.

 

From time to time throughout the match she glances over at him. He’s watching her avidly, grinning, clearly proud. She’s delighted and so pleased, and this confidence gives her the extra burst needed. She wins the match by two games and after shaking Eliza’s hand, she runs over to her mother.

‘I am so proud of you, sweetheart!’ she exclaims, holding her close. Eliza comes to join them too and her mother wraps her arm around her too. ‘You both played so well, my darlings,’ she says, beaming. ‘You’ll give me and your mother a run for our money soon enough!’

She looks at her cousin and they giggle, amused by the thought. She then darts a glance at Mike, who is still grinning.

‘That was a great game,’ he says. ‘I definitely think I’m gonna need a lot of practice before playing you.’

She smiles at him and he reaches out, squeezing her shoulder.

‘What time did you want to leave for lunch, Chrissy?’

‘Maybe half an hour?’ she suggests. ‘Is that enough time?’

‘I think so.’

‘Great! We’ll swing by the house then.’

She stands up and Mike takes her tennis things before reaching out to hold her mother’s hand. She runs ahead of them back to the house, turning back to look at them and call back to them to hurry up. She’s excited to go to lunch with her cousin, such a treat, and she feels as though she can relax for once because her mother is so happy. Just as she climbs up the steps to the front porch, she looks back at them once more. They have stopped walking and she’s looking up at him. After a moment they embrace and he strokes her hair, holding her close. They pull back eventually and grin at each other. She is enormously relieved--he _does_ make her happy--even as she feels a flutter of unease. They look so happy together, but what if that’s all they want? Just to be together? Daddy always wanted that--he just wanted to be with Mommy, not her. And now… what if Mike wants the same thing?

But then they break apart and turn to look at her, smiling and waving, and after a moment she waves back.


End file.
